The Time Jack Lost His Stick
by Ira Lea
Summary: ...or rather, had it taken from him. When Jack commits one prank too many, North takes matters (read: Jack's staff) into his own hands. It's just supposed to be confiscated for a day or two - - a short punishment - - but there's a new villain who's quite willing to take this oppurtunity to strike. Jack is POWERLESS. No slash, 10-shot plus epilogue, now complete! Enjoy!
1. Temper, Temper

_**AN: So, this'll be updated fairly regularly, and I'm not gonna do the whole "I need this many reviews" thing…but this is how it's gonna go. I'm going to post the first two chapters, get the plot rolling and whatnot, and then, once I get at least a couple FOLLOWERS (since some people can't review)…then I'll post the third chapter. Deal? Deal.**_

_**So, here we go.**_

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**The Time Jack Lost His Stick**

By: CL

Chapter I  
Temper, Temper

Jack Frost crept slowly up the rooftop, his movements controlled and careful. He could hear voices, conversing quietly. He couldn't see the speakers—they were on the other side of the house—but they couldn't see him, either.

Which was good.

Cautiously he peeked over the apex of the roof, his icy blue eyes narrowed watchfully, searching the yard below.

And he saw them.

His grip tightened on his staff, frost creeping slowly up its smooth surface. He moved it in a barely noticeable swirl, tracing subtle circles in the air with its crooked tip, trailing light. Delicate white snowflakes gathered, forming a weapon of mass chaos that served as the boy's trademark.

The weapon dropped into his waiting palm. Jack went very still, watching the inhabitants of the yard below. They still hadn't seen him. That was good.

Slowly, he rose from his crouch, preparing to launch the weapon.

Jamie had no warning save for a slight whistling sound. Then, in an eruption of icy cold—a snowball shattered against the back of his head.

"Ha!" Jamie shouted, whirling around and pointing at the now-visible form of Jack. "Found you!"

"Found you, found you!" his sister, Sophie, sang happily, giggling and popping up from where she had been checking under a rock for their elusive friend.

Jack swooped down from the roof, kicking up a spray of snow and twirling a happy circle. "Yeah?" he challenged, pausing momentarily in front of the boy. "Well, now you gotta _catch _me!" He looped away, circling the base of a tree and then flying up into the branches. Moments later, Jamie and Sophie found themselves pelted with more "weapons of mass chaos"—perfectly formed snowballs.

"Snowball fight!" Jamie shouted, picking up one and throwing it. Jack grinned and dropped down from his perch, two more icy balls already in hand.

_Whump!_

_Thwack!_

"Whoa!"

_Thump!_

"Watch it!"

_Thud!_

_Bang!_

_Bam!_

"Look out below!"

_SWOOSH!_

The final explosion of snow, courtesy of Jack dropping into a big drift from several stories up, buried all three of the children. There was a moment of expectant silence, and then three heads poked out of the otherwise-flawless snow. They all looked at each other for a moment—and then burst out laughing.

Chuckling, Jack shook off the snow and helped Jamie and Sophie free themselves.

Jamie clutched at Jack's hand even after he'd brushed all of the heavy snow from his clothes and steadied himself. "Caught you," he announced with a devious smile.

Jack grinned. "Aw, man! Now _I'm_ It, huh? Okay." He covered his eyes, still grinning. "One…Two…Three…"

His grin widened as he felt the small hand clutching his fingers abruptly disappear, and heard the two kids tromping across the snow to find a hiding place.

xXx

"Hey, Jack?"

"Hmm?"

All three of them lay in the snow where they'd collapsed after an exhausting chase through the yard, now staring peacefully up at the sky. Jamie looked over at the blue-eyed boy.

"When are you going to bring First Frost this year?"

Jack thought about that. He realized that he probably _should_ decide, and soon—it was already late October, and soon he'd have to spin a real snowfall for a large portion of the world, instead of just travelling and bringing random snow days wherever he went.

"Well, when do you want me to bring it?" he asked eventually.

"Tomorrow?" Jamie asked hopefully.

Jack laughed. "As much as I'd like to, I'm pretty sure the fall fairies would vow revenge if I even dared to touch their trees this early in the season."

"Christmas?"

Jack let out a low whistle. "Now that's just way too far away. Do you want _any_ snow this year?"

Jamie frowned thoughtfully. "Then…what about Halloween?"

Jack felt a devious smirk playing on his lips, but he forced it down. Halloween. A night of fear and evil spirits…and this kid was all but asking him to completely crash it with a good frost. It was still a little early, but…

"Sure," he said happily. "I promise, on Halloween Night, you'll have snow up to your ears. I'll even wave at you."

xXx

Still glowing from his happy afternoon with Jamie and Sophie, Jack couldn't help being in a good mood as he flew back to the North Pole. In fact, he was in such a good mood that he couldn't see letting his unshakable cheer go to waste.

"Hello!" he greeted a yeti as he flitted through the workshop. The yeti glared at him briefly and went back to his careful painting of the toy in front of him.

Jack gasped in mock horror. "Oh no! No, no, that's all _wrong!_ Look, I was just in to see the big guy himself, and he was very clear: those have to be _green._"

The yeti stared at him uncomprehendingly, and then looked at the giant stack of red trains he'd already painted.

"Well, see ya 'round! Good luck!" Jack flew away quickly, leaving the yeti alone to rage.

He went on a spree—freezing feet to the ground, messing up the production of presents, icing the floors and banisters, freezing elves and even, on one occasion, a yeti. At one point he gave the elves faulty instructions on how to work the workshop's power source, sure that something would happen eventually. He apologized to the yeti he'd misled about the color, telling him that the trains really _were_ supposed to be red…but he didn't tell him that until the yeti had repainted the whole stack a cheerful pine green.

And then Santa Claus arrived.

The door opened with a bang and North tromped in, shaking snow off of his boots. He muttered something under his breath, looked up—and found his gaze met with utter chaos.

Jack gasped and flitted behind North's giant replica of the Earth, hoping that North hadn't seen him.

"What is going on?!" he heard North bellow, his voice easily recognizable thanks to a very thick Russian accent. Jack had to repress a snicker as he imagined what North was thinking, looking around at the slick floors, icicles, light-entangled elves, furious yetis, overturned tables, and clumps of frozen elfsicles. Deciding to add one more element to the mix, Jack waved his staff, melting all of the ice.

Almost instantly, everything became soaked. Elves that had previously been frozen collapsed, and began to stagger around the room, moaning and shivering.

And then, to Jack's elation, the lights finally fizzled out. Everything run by the shop's power source sputtered to a stop, plunging the whole building into semi-darkness.

"_JACK!_"

"Oh, look at the time," Jack muttered, pretending to check his watch-less wrist and quickly flitting out the door, brushing past North too swiftly to be caught.

Time to make his getaway.

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_**AN: First chapter up, and that's just kinda the intro. Please read the next chapter if you want the plot to start.**_


	2. Powerless

_**AN: This is where the conflict is formally introduced. Enjoy!**_

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**The Time Jack Lost His Stick  
**By: CL

Chapter II  
Powerless

"North, can't you control him?"

"'E froze my _ears_ together yesterday!"

"—_trying_, but he's—"

"Stole my boomerangs, too!"

"Mismatching the memories!"

"—you are not only ones—"

"And my eggs! Painted 'em all _camouflage_!"

"—not my responsibility—"

"And _hid_ them!"

"—I'm sorry but—"

"_In the forest!_

"I don't know how he does it."

"Do you _know_ how hard it was to find every _single_ bloody egg?!"

"He enjoys it."

"Called me _Fuzzy-wuzzy! TO MY FACE!"_

"—I am doing best I can—"

"'Course I got back at him, but—"

"Putting all my fairies in a daze!"

"_Taunting_ me!"

"North, you have to—"

"—control him—"

"He's getting—"

"—outta hand—!"

"_Will _you _all_ just _be quiet and listen?_" North bellowed. Abruptly, the two Guardians who'd been complaining to him went silent. Sandman, who was also among the complainers, had naturally already been silent, but the signs that had been appearing in rapid-fire succession above his head fizzled out and he looked quietly sheepish.

North sighed and rubbed his eyes in exasperation. "I _know_ he's been getting out of hand," he said tiredly. "I don't know what to do about it, though. He won't listen to me; he won't listen to _any_ of us."

Toothiana sighed sadly. "I know, but, his pranks…" She took a deep, calming breath. "Well, I guess they're not that bad, honestly. He doesn't _try_ to mess up my fairies, and the memories weren't switched around that badly…" She scratched at her nose uncertainly.

Bunnymund snorted. "Maybe Frostbite respects _you_, but not me! _That rat froze my ears!_ The _ears_ are _off limits_, Mate. I've made that clear."

Sandman smiled mirthfully, and he didn't have to try to explain; Tooth was in on it too. "Well, you and he don't exactly get _along_, Bunny. Maybe if you tried to be nicer to him…"

"_Nicer!_" Bunnymund exclaimed angrily. "I'll show you _nicer_! Someone, get me a flamethrower; I'll _melt_ the kid!"

North shook his head. "Give it a day. Let me talk to him."

Bunnymund rolled his eyes. "Whatevah; you _know_ it won't work. Let's make a deal, Mate: when you fail, I'm allowed at him with a lighter."

"_Don't_," North cautioned, "get ahead of yourself. I _told_ you, I'll_ talk_ to him. And no fire, Bunny."

Bunnymund shook his head mournfully. "It's _your_ funeral, Mate." He turned and leapt out the window.

North looked questioningly at Tooth and Sandman.

"I'd better tend to my fairies," Tooth said apologetically. "Good luck though. I hope you get through to him." She darted out the window, wings a blur.

Sandman shifted uncomfortably under North's look. A series of random signs appeared in golden sand above his head, and he, too, flew out.

North sighed heavily. "Does no one around here use door anymore?" he wondered aloud.

But he knew that that wasn't really what had him feeling so frustrated.

xXx

Jack stopped by the North Pole often, since he wasn't an outcast anymore and the North Pole's temperature was to his liking, but that night wasn't one of those nights. North was thankful; he still didn't know exactly what he would say to get Jack to start behaving himself.

Did Jack even know _how _to behave himself?

It was an interesting question…one that North didn't have the answer to.

The next day, Jack visited again. He let himself in, naturally, since North always asked him to knock, and made his presence known with an icy wind that blew through the halls, knocking all of the paintings off of the walls.

North rolled his eyes. As Jack had intended, he knew who was at the door, and he wasn't looking forward to the little chat they were about to have.

"Hey North!"

Reluctantly, North turned to face the voice.

Jack stood before him, grinning cheerfully. North was immediately put on his guard. On some days, seeing Jack smile was truly heart-warming—ironic, considering that he had power over cold, but true—and yet when he grinned like _that_, on a day where there didn't appear to be any cause to grin that widely…

North looked around for any hidden bombs or wires Jack may have set.

Jack caught the look and twisted his lips into an offended pout. "Aw, I'm not _that_ bad, am I? Look, no tricks! I just wondered if you'd help me with something." He raised his hands in a signal of peace, showing that he was unarmed.

Except that he wasn't.

In one hand was his staff—a dangerous tool, to be sure. The other…

Was that a bottle of…soda?

"What is that?" North asked suspiciously, scowling at the soft drink.

Jack looked at the soda as if surprised to see it there, as in: _What? How'd that get there?_ "Uh…it's…" He squinted at the label. "_A & W Root Beer, since 1919_."

North didn't try to hide his suspicion. "And what are you doing in my house with bottle of A & W root beer?" He folded his arms expectantly, showing off the daunting 'Naughty' and 'Nice' tattoos splayed across his forearms.

Jack huffed, blowing a lock of snowy white hair out of his eyes, and lowered his hands. "That's where the 'wondering if you'd help me with something' comes in. See, I've never actually drunk a soda before…and now I want to. Jamie told me I should try root beer, but I can't get it open. What the heck is up with this cap? No matter how hard I _pull_," he tugged on the brown cap of the plastic bottle for emphasis, "it doesn't want to come off."

North might've fallen for the act, but the memory of Jack's mischievous grin still had him on his guard. If this was truly what Jack had come for, then why had he been grinning so broadly? There was more; North was certain.

"And?" North asked expectantly.

Jack's face reddened in embarrassment, the frosty white patterns on his cheeks in stark contrast with the delicate flush. "And…I was wondering if you would open it for me."

Was that blush an act? It was very convincing. North looked back and forth between Jack's pleading eyes and the innocent-looking soda bottle.

"Alright," he conceded finally, holding out a hand for the beverage. "Give."

Jack's face lit up with relief and gratitude, and he quickly passed it to the considerably larger man. "Thanks! I figured, you know, since you're bigger and stronger, you'd get it off easy-peasy and—"

"No, Jack. Look, cap is _twist—_" North clamped his big fingers around the ridged cap…and stopped. He had just noticed the surplus of light brown foam gathered near the top of the bottle. He looked questioningly at Jack.

"What?" Jack asked, looking puzzled at North's sudden silence.

"There is lot of foam below cap…no?"

Jack's eyes widened with realization. "Oh. It got kinda shook up on the flight?"

North chuckled. "Nice try, Frost, but I know attempt at prank when I see one. You know that soda explodes when shaken up, yes? Of course you did. And you wanted soda—" He gestured expansively with the bottle "—to explode over me."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Well, that would've been a plus. Can you just show me how to open it?"

North chuckled again, his discovery of Jack's intent putting him in a very good mood. As it was, this caused him to relax just a little as he once again fingered the cap, twisted, and pulled—making sure to hold the bottle out of splashing distance of his nice red outfit.

The cap came off easily in his hand—and then a beige, foamy geyser, freed from its cramped prison, burst from the bottle. The bottle shot from North's hand, spinning between his legs and spilling brown, hissing liquid all over the floor. North stepped back in surprise, slipped in the puddle, and crashed to the floor, soaking the whole front of his clothes in sticky beverage.

He lifted his face out of the puddle, spitting out a small stream of root beer, to hear hysterical laughter coming from above him. He looked up to see Jack doubled over, clutching his stomach, shoulders shaking violently with mirth. The sound was clear and exultant and merry as silver bells on Christmas morning—but North wasn't willing to see the bright side.

Seeing North's look, Jack grinned and pulled something out of his pocket, waving the open silver and blue package at North.

Mentos.

xXx

Jack was pretty proud of himself. North had almost figured out his deception for what it was—but not quite. Jack could've stood there laughing himself silly until the Poles melted, and the look on North's face would not have ceased to amuse him.

Except that the look on North's face quickly changed from utter surprise to hot fury, and his bright blue eyes practically burned. Jack caught that look, as North slowly rose from his prone position on the floor, and promptly dropped the Mentos and fled.

He called the winds to aid him, speeding him through the halls. The prank may have been one of his favorite yet, but he had a feeling that it would not be worth it if North caught up to him while in _Hulk Smash_ mode.

He almost made it…and then he flew around a corner and ran right into a yeti.

He yelped and tried to pull back, but the furry creature quickly grabbed him, and Jack was no match for his strength. "Let me go!" Jack shouted. "Let me go! He's coming!"

Right on cue, Nicholas St. North stomped around the corner. He looked no less angry. His face lit up in a way that Jack did _not_ like upon seeing the boy restrained and unable to fly away.

"Good!" North shouted approvingly to the yeti. "Hold him." He marched up. Jack wriggled and writhed, but the yeti's grip was firm.

"Look, Phil, I'm really sorry about the whole trains-being-green-and-then-red thing the other day so please can you just let me go and we could all forget this ever happened?" Jack begged, his voice rising and gaining in speed and panic as North drew closer. But Phil held firm, and Jack was trapped.

North stopped in front of Jack and glowered at him, fists planted on his hips. He might have looked comical—suit soaked and sticking to him, beard dripping and the color of root beet foam, hair in a disarray—but his eyes were not funny in the least. Jack quailed before that look.

"Frost, I am sick and tired of your games!" North boomed. "All Guardians are! Tooth, Sandy, Bunny—we cannot stand this anymore! And you will not listen to us, so there's only one thing left to do."

_Please don't kill me please don't kill me please don't kill me please don't kill me,_ Jack thought in terror, the words becoming a desperate mantra in his head as North reached out…

…and wrapped his fingers around Jack's staff.

Jack was so startled that he didn't even resist as North tugged the long piece of wood from Jack's grasp.

"I think you need little break from your mischief," North decided. "Until you prove that you can be responsible with powers and in _general_…" He cocked an eyebrow at Jack and held up the package of Mentos that he had evidently retrieved from where Jack had previously abandoned it, "…I think I'll just keep ice stick safe…away from you."

Jack's eyes went wide with horror. "Never mind!" he exclaimed. "Kill me! But—don't do _that!_ I _need_ that! Winter's coming!"

North shook his head. "Not unless you prove that you can be responsible. And if few days without powers is what you need, then few days without powers is what you get." He looked at the yeti. "You can set him down, now, Phillip. He's harmless, no?" He turned to walk away as the yeti dropped Jack. Without the wind to catch him, he crumpled to the ground.

North stopped. "Oh," he called over his shoulder as an afterthought, "and, since you cannot fly, you will have to stay here until you get staff back. Say…however long it takes. You can have guest bedroom, on bottom floor." He turned and walked around the corner and out of sight—taking Jack's staff with him.

Jack stared after him in horror. Already, he could feel his powers diminished. He pressed his hand to the hard floor and willed frost from his fingertips. Patterns began to spread across the tiles. But when he willed the root beer puddles to freeze, all they did was frost over—a thin membrane of cold, floating on top of the now chilly liquid. When he called the wind to lift him up, all he felt was a reluctant breeze playing across his cheeks.

North really had _taken away_ his powers.

Indefinitely.

xXx

Bunnymund wasn't sure why North called them all to the North Pole. He hadn't used the emergency Aurora Borealis this time (those, as the name suggested, were for emergencies only). But the urgent letter he'd sent had sounded pretty serious.

Bunnymund appeared in North's sitting room, jumping up from a rabbit hole. He was the first one there, he realized—a surprise in itself. Only North was in the room.

North hadn't noticed his arrival. The large, normally jolly man was muttering to himself as he reclined in an armchair and stared into the flames.

"Was I too harsh on him? Maybe I lost temper too quickly. Winter _is_ coming. Should I give it back? No, no, punishment is punishment…"

Bunnymund crept forward warily. "North?"

North didn't start or act surprised. "Greetings, friend."

Bunnymund cocked his head, eyes narrowed inquisitively. "Somethin' buggin' ya?"

North sighed and gestured to the corner. Bunnymund looked—and was startled to see a crooked piece of wood propped up by the window.

"Ain't that…?"

North nodded. "Boy pulled prank yesterday. I had to do _something._ Now I am not so sure it was right thing…so I called you here to get opinions." He sat up and looked around. "Where are others?"

Bunnymund shrugged and sniffed. "Pro'ly on their way."

North nodded, his bushy eyebrows lowering once again into a brooding, disgruntled scowl. "Alright then. We must wait."

Bunny shrugged. "Whateva' you say, Mate." He leaned back against the wall and pulled out an egg and a paintbrush.

A few minutes later, Sandy flew in in his old-fashioned biplane, closely followed by a rapidly chattering Toothiana.

"Oh, hello!" Tooth greeted them eagerly, flitting in and visibly relaxing as she escaped the Northern chill. Sandy jumped out of his plane and it dissolved. "Did you have something to tell us, North?"

North's eyebrows lifted in greeting and he stood from his overstuffed armchair. "Hello."

Sandy cocked his head inquisitively, a swirly question mark appearing in golden dreamsand above his head.

North sighed. "Well…you were all complaining about…you know…earlier."

Sandy and Tooth looked at each other in puzzlement, and then returned their gazes to North and nodded in unison. Bunnymund bobbed his head emphatically, in a motion that was easily filled with a lot more attitude than those of his compatriots, though he didn't look up from the now bright-yellow egg.

North nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. "Well, boy was at it again yesterday." He reached into his oversized pocket and pulled out two mementoes of the event, holding them out for everyone to see—the empty bottle of A & W Root Beer (since 1919), and the ripped-open, half-empty package of Mentos.

Toothiana sucked in a startled breath. "Oh," she said sympathetically. "Soda volcano."

North shook his head and shoved the bottle and package back into his pocket. "More like 'soda _explosion'_," he grumbled.

Sandman looked around and caught sight of the staff. He pointed at it frantically and an image of it appeared in golden sand above his head. Toothiana followed his waving finger and gasped at the sight of it.

"Is that…?"

She trailed off, just as Bunnymund had.

"Yes," North replied, plopping down into his armchair. "I…I had to do _some_thing."

Tooth stared at the staff, her vibrant purple eyes wide with shock.

"He's here now," North continued.

Bunnymund's green eyes flashed and his ears pricked in interest. "Frosty's _here?_ Right now?" For the first time since the conversation had started, he looked completely up from his work, nose and ears quivering in interest.

North nodded. "He cannot leave without powers."

"So he's really powerless?" Toothiana asked in concern. "No flying, no snowstorms, no frost?"

North chuckled. "Of course he has frost—he is _Jack_ Frost. No worries; he is cold as before."

"Just not as much of a nuisance," Bunnymund added appreciatively. "I must say, North—you have the right idea."

Toothiana glared at Bunnymund. "Not that I would do sum'min like that,' Bunnymund hurriedly amended, ears flattening nervously. "I'm just sayin' that now the li'l snowflake is less…troublesome."

"So you think I made right choice?" North asked. "It is not permanent…just until he can learn responsibility."

Tooth sighed sadly and, with a flutter of hummingbird-like wings, lit down next to North. "North, Jack…well, Jack's eternally young. He's the Guardian of _Fun_, and…well, you could say that responsibility doesn't really fit the job description." She took a step back and rubbed her arm nervously. "And he's a free spirit. Confining him won't teach him anything…he's probably miserable."

North visibly sagged in his seat. He raised his large hand to his face, exhaustedly rubbing at his temple. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked gloomily.

Tooth shook her head. "I don't know, North. I'm not saying that what you did was wrong…just, don't keep him here too long. Remember who and what he is before you go trying to make him something he's not." She turned and fluttered out the window, into the chill night.

North looked at his two remaining guests, who both shifted and fidgeted uncertainly.

"Well…_I_ think ya did the right thing," Bunny commented, not quite meeting his eyes.

North turned his gaze to Sandman. Sandy looked away and frowned discontentedly, and then looked back up at North and conjured a sand silhouette of Toothiana.

"You agree with Tooth," North interpreted dejectedly.

Sandman looked uncomfortable, but the next image to appear over his head was a snowflake—which slowly melted. He obviously concurred with Toothiana's statement—that Jack shouldn't have to be confined, and it would hurt more than help. Then a biplane formed next to him. He boarded, snapped on some goggles, and, with a sad farewell wave, flew out the window.

Bunnymund shook his head. "Okay, I'll admit it. Frosty's been a real pain in the tail lately, and it's kinda nice to know that he won' be goin' at me for a while but…I don' like to think that he's…well…powerless. Ya can't teach 'im what he's not meant to learn, North."

North turned his gaze away from Bunny, staring instead at the staff.

"Look, Buddy, ya want responsibility? Put Jack in front of a kid who needs 'im, and he'll be as responsible and selfless as any one of us. But 'e's a kid too, Mate. Eighteen goin' on three hundred…but still a kid. And kids will be kids." Bunnymund huffed. "I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I don't think you should keep the snowflake here."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" North demanded finally, jumping to his feet and turning to face Bunnymund.

Bunny shook his head. "Can't 'elp ya there, Mate. Just…give it a few days. But remember what we've said. He may be a Guardian, but 'e's also Jack Frost. And Frosty ain't the type to stay in one place long." He tapped the ground with his foot and disappeared into a rabbit hole. A single magenta flower grew from the spot the portal had momentarily been, quivering slightly.

North sighed and fell back into his chair. He couldn't believe it. Just the other day, they had been complaining and telling him to do something…and now they were all telling him he was wrong. Even _Bunny_, for Chris Cringles' sake!

But at the same time, North agreed with them. It had been why he'd called them in the first place. He didn't like what he'd done, and deep down, he knew it had been wrong. What right did he have to take the boy's ice stick, after all? Jack was _not_ his son, _nor_ his responsibility.

But he was loathe to just…return the stick. A punishment is a punishment! And what would returning the stick do? Tell Jack that he could get away with anything, because no one was willing to punish him.

And how long before the next prank? Bunny may have reservations now, but if Jack froze his ears just _one_ more time, North was sure that Bunny would be angry enough to make good on his earlier threat about the flamethrower. This was for Jack's safety as much as it was for his fellow Guardians' sanity.

And yet, how safe was it really? To be powerless in someone else's home? Jack was a nomad…a free spirit, like Toothiana had said. He wouldn't really learn anything…

North sighed. "I will give it few days," he told himself, remembering Bunny's advice. "I'll see where we are then."

That decided, he retired to his chambers for the night…unknowing of he who had just witnessed that entire conversation.

'_Powerless, huh?'_ the spy mused. _'This might be just what we needed._'

xXx

"My lord," came the soft, hissing voice, twisting through the shadows of the throne room.

One of these shadows was thicker than the rest. It stirred now from its position slumped in the throne, sitting up. "Cantus? Is that you?"

"Yes, my lord. Sin Cantus, reporting."

"What have you found? Surely something important must have happened for you to come in person."

"My king, an opening has arisen. The youngest Guardian has had his weapon of power taken from him. He is…_powerless._"

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_**AN: Hard as it may be to believe, the next chapter is where the action picks up…the contrast between that action-packed monstrosity and this tame little beast is actually kinda funny. So…you might want to click the 'follow' button. Just sayin'.**_

**Ira: O.o Wow. North just…postponed Winter.**

**CL: Yeah, well…yeah, I guess he did. But in his defense, Jack was being kind of a brat. Do _you_ want A & W Root Beer (since 1919) soaking your clothes.**

_**Hopefully, I'll see ya next chapter! …Right?**_


	3. Jack Be Nimble

_**AN: HOLY CRAP. I did not expect to get so many followers in so little time. THANK YOU!**_

_**So, here's my gift to you: another chapter. You…probably won't be thanking me when you're done, though. I don't have time to put up the next chapter today…sorry…**_

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Chapter III Jack Be Nimble

"_Cantus? Is that you?"_

"_Yes, my lord. Sin Cantus, reporting."_

"_What have you found? Surely something important must have happened for you to come in person."_

"_My king, an opening has arisen. The youngest Guardian has had his weapon of power taken from him. He is…_powerless_."_

Though the darkness was thick, both speakers could see one another. The first was tall and thin, sitting in a dark, obsidian throne. At his feet crouched the second, Sin Cantus, a skeletal wraith which groveled before his master.

The shadow in the throne leaned forward, very interested now. "Indeed? Where is he." Though phrased as a question, the sentence was very much like an order.

"The North Pole, my lord. Santa's Workshop. Nicholas St. North has relieved the boy of his staff. We have a few days until it is returned."

The shadow reclined back in his throne, his long, skeletal fingers tapping his chin thoughtfully. "More than enough time," he commented thoughtfully, "to finish the job."

Sin Cantus nodded from his humble position on one knee at his master's feet. "And our takeover can begin," he concluded with pleasure.

The shadow tensed abruptly. "'_Our'_ takeover, Sin?"

Sin flinched. "Yours, your highness. I meant, _yours._ _Your_ takeover."

The shadow relaxed again. "Very right."

There was a timid silence.

"My lord," Sin began, his whispering, slithering voice trembling uncertainly. "If I may ask…how do you plan to go about killing the boy?"

"What?" The tall shadow's voice was sharp. "Explain."

"It's just that…he may be _vulnerable_, my lord, but he is, nonetheless, immortal."

Sin didn't see the devious smile curl his master's lips in the darkness. "I know. You must think me mad to pursue him so. But there is something you must learn, my servant. Jack Frost is a free spirit—an immortal spirit. And _everyone_ knows that immortal beings cannot be killed. However…"

The shadow held out a hand and fire flared in his open palm, sending flickering, dancing light across his widening leer.

"They can be destroyed."

xXx

Two days passed. Two horrible, boring, cramped days. When the third night fell on Jack Frost's stay in Santa's Workshop, the boy was nearing the end of his endurance.

Jack sat on the window seat in the globe room, gazing longingly out into the blizzard raging outside. He had a feeling it had sprouted from him and his pent up emotions, but he couldn't control it. Not without his staff.

He put up his hood and hugged his knees closer. He noticed his hands trembling and glared weakly at them, but they didn't stop.

Even in the globe room, the most spacious, open room in the workshop, he felt restrained and trapped. He just wanted to be free again. He wanted to feel the wind on his face and soar above the clouds and bring fun and snow to the children below. He wanted to visit Jamie and have a snowball fight or build a snowman. He wanted to feel the strong, comforting presence of his staff _in his hand_, and know that he was Jack Frost.

He didn't feel like Jack Frost now.

He looked out into the storm, his eyes finally focusing and narrowing dangerously. Just because he couldn't fly didn't mean he had to be confined. It didn't mean he had to stay in this overly-Christmas-y house. He didn't need to stay here like North had said.

He stood and threw open the window. At once a flurry of snow whirled around him, bringing with it a cold, icy wind. He stood very still for a moment, his eyes drifting closed as he tilted his face up just a little, letting the delicate snowflakes kiss his cheeks and nose.

He just wanted to feel like Jack Frost again.

Icy blue orbs flickered open, and he stepped forward, out into the night. The chill didn't bite or burn him; instead, it felt wonderfully refreshing. He may not control the storm, but it knew him nonetheless. It knew Jack Frost, and Jack Frost knew the storm.

He wanted to go higher. He wanted to soar, but that wasn't possible…

He'd settle for the roof.

He found some handholds and footholds on the wall of the house and stepped off of the windowsill, climbing skillfully and confidently. He didn't worry about the slick ice or the harsh wind; the wind pushed him up, and the ice thickened and swirled under his pale fingers.

Finally, he reached the roof. He didn't stop there, though. His breath now coming in pants, he pulled himself up the conical peak of the tallest tower of the castle-like building, nimbly leaping up and landing on the very tip, his long toes easily finding purchase on the pencil-sharp point. He straightened up and looked around.

It seemed as if the whole of the North Pole was laid out before him. The moonlight bathed everything in a beautiful silver glow, and with the wind ruffling his hair and snow gathering around him, Jack could almost convince himself that he was free and not powerless—free to jump off of this roof and soar even higher, to skim the thrashing waves and slide down the glittering slopes. Free to fly.

But he wasn't. This was as high as he could go. His blue eyes saddened at the thought, but he didn't get down from his perch. The ice and wind just felt too good to return once again to the confines of the workshop.

However, unbeknownst to him, he was being watched.

For all his spying, Sin Cantus had never seen Jack Frost so clearly as he did that night. Standing straight and tall, outlined in silver by the full moon, the boy looked strange and beautiful. The whirling snowflakes gathered around him unnaturally, painting pictures in the air, and the wind played with him, mussing his silver hair and tugging at his clothes, as if asking him to join it.

But Jack Frost didn't join the wind, because he couldn't. Sin didn't miss the wistfulness in Jack's wide, childlike blue eyes, or the abrupt rise and fall of his chest as he sighed sadly and looked up at the moon, or the slight glistening that betrayed the tears threatening. The boy—this 'free spirit'—would be longing for freedom, Sin knew.

Little did this free spirit know, his freedom—and life—were about to be abruptly cut short.

With the world bathed in silver light, it would've been hard to miss the shadow that flickered suddenly across the snow. Jack blinked back his tears and searched the ice for the strange form he had seen.

There it was again.

Something dark and wispy, like a wraith, flickered between too mountains. Jack could have sworn he'd seen a glint of fire and a flash of a devious smile. Then the apparition was gone.

Had it truly ever been there?

"North?" Jack called as he slipped back through the window and carefully shut it behind him. "North?"

There was a wetness on his cheek—the last remnant of what had almost been tears up on the roof. Jack angrily rubbed at the water with the arm of his sleeve. There was no way he was going to give North any indication that he had been crying.

Except…where _was_ North?

"North?" Jack tried again. "Santa? Big Guy?"

Still no answer.

"North?"

There was a distant slam of a door, and the big man strode in. He was muttering to himself, pulling on his red overcoat and fixing his hat.

"Oh, hello, boy." North seemed to get uncomfortable seeing Jack. Jack didn't understand it—the man had been avoiding him almost the whole time Jack had been staying there. What was up with him?

"Are you going somewhere?" Jack asked in concern.

North nodded. "There's been disturbance down in Warren. Bunny's called for help."

Jack cocked an eyebrow skeptically. If he had had his staff he might have leaned on it casually, but he settled with planting a hand on his hip. "Bunny," he repeated disbelievingly. "_Bunny_ has called for help."

North nodded. "That is why I am so worried. I do not know when I will be back, so…be careful, and don't get into trouble, yes?"

Jack suddenly remembered why he had been looking for North in the first place.

"Wait, North, I think something weird is going on. I saw something outside—"

"Outside?" North interrupted. "You went outside?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Just 'cause I can't fly doesn't make me an invalid, North. I just went up on the roof. Now, I saw something—something weird and dark. I don't know if you should go."

North shook his head firmly. "I _have_ to go, Jack. Bunnymund could be in serious danger."

"Seriously? I don't know about that, North. What could possibly be going on in the Warren? What if it's a trap? What if something wants you to leave—to get you out of the workshop so you're an easier target? What if you get hurt?"

Gone was the defiant stance and skeptical expression. Jack looked genuinely concerned.

"Eh…" North brushed at his coat uncertainly. "I cannot ignore call for help, Jack. If Bunny is in trouble, he will need me."

Jack sighed. "Okay…I guess I know that. I just…something isn't right."

North shook his head. "I know. I will be extra careful, if that alleviates fear?"

Jack gave in. "Okay," he muttered sullenly. "Be quick."

North smiled at him, and, tentatively, Jack smiled back. It was the first smile North had seen the boy attempt since he'd had his staff taken from him—not that North had been around him too much—and the older spirit was genuinely relieved to see it. "I will be fast as possible," North promised. "And…"

Jack cocked his head curiously as North trailed off. "What?" he asked.

North shook his head. "Nothing. I shall see you soon, no?" Another smile, this one even wider, and then North turned and pulled a snow globe from his pocket. "Warren," he said calmly, throwing the globe, which turned into a swirl of light—a sparkling vortex. It was a portal.

"Bye," Jack said, waving half-heartedly as North stepped forward. There was no reply, as the big Russian disappeared into the light. The vortex collapsed in on itself, ceasing the lightshow and leaving Jack blinking the stars from his eyes.

He looked around nervously.

Something was very wrong.

"Be careful, North," he whispered, wishing North could hear him. But the big man was already far away.

xXx

"_My lord."_

"_Yes."_

"_It worked. North has left the workshop."_

"_It's empty?"_

"_The elves and yetis have been given a day off. The boy is alone."_

"_Excellent._"

_The skeletal shadow rose from his throne. _North,_ he thought, mouth curving into a delighted leer. _You just make this too easy.

xXx

Jack had retreated to his room after North's departure, but it wasn't long before he looked up in surprise, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise and a shiver run down his spine. Something had changed. He sensed something. A darkness. A…warmth.

Then came the voice: rich, sinister, and mocking.

"Hello, Jack Frost."

xXx

North scanned the empty Warren, the light from his portal fizzling out abruptly. The full moon provided the only illumination, highlighting the mossy rocks and green hills. Nothing moved.

And yet he knew that all was not calm as it seemed. He could feel it in his belly—something, somewhere, was horribly wrong.

And he'd learned long ago to trust his belly.

xXx

Jack whirled around, heart pounding, but no one was there. He was alone in his room, where he had retreated after North's departure.

"Who's there?" Jack called, trying not to sound scared, though he was more than a little unnerved. He reached for his staff—but of course, it wasn't there. His grasping fingers closed around empty air.

The voice came again.

"My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Missing something, are we?"

"Who are you?!" Jack demanded. The voice was unfamiliar, but menacing nonetheless.

There was a movement in the corner of his eye and he whirled around. Before his eyes, a figure materialized in the corner. Jack stepped back in alarm. The figure was tall and painfully skinny—almost skeletally so—and wore a formfitting, tailored suit. What was really scary, though, were its hands—digits of long, delicate bones—and its head—little more than a giant pumpkin placed on the being's sharp, narrow shoulders. A sinister face, with glowing, narrowed eyes and a sharp-toothed leer, smirked at him.

"I, my dear boy, am the Pumpkin King."

xXx

"Bunny?" North called, stepping lightly and carefully. Still nothing stirred. Where was that rabbit?

Everything was silent—but it was not a still silence. It was as if the whole Warren was holding its breath.

Waiting.

xXx

Jack couldn't believe it.

"The…?"

He'd heard rumors of a Halloween spirit, but he'd never come face to face with him, nor had he ever actually cared to. Halloween was overrated in his opinion, anyway. Even Easter was better than Halloween. The only good thing about it was the free candy…and it's not like Jack ever paid for candy anyway.

The Pumpkin King took a threatening step forward, prompting Jack to take a fearful step back. "L-look, if this is about that whole 'bringing First Frost on Halloween' thing, I'm really sorry," Jack tried nervously, horribly aware that without his staff he was helpless. "I…I can move it up. I swear, I didn't mean anything by it…"

The Pumpkin King laughed. "Look at you, trembling! No, child, this is not about Halloween. And apologies won't get you anywhere. I've come on a different mission."

Jack edged toward the door. "Oh, really?" Maybe he could keep this guy talking…maybe he could escape…or call for help…

Help.

The emergency Aurora Borealis. Jack remembered the button currently residing in the globe room below. That was it! If he could make it to the globe room before this deranged spirit…before he…what? What had he come here to do?

"What do you want?" Jack demanded, still edging toward the door. He noted with pleasure that his voice was a lot firmer now. He wasn't afraid of this creep…especially not now that he had a plan.

The Pumpkin King's glowing smile curled with amusement. "Why, to kill you of course."

Jack's eyes went wide with shock as the spirit attacked. If he had had his staff he could've just let the wind carry him out of the way—but as it was, he barely managed to stumble to the right, only just missing the Pumpkin King's grasping claws. He scrambled back to his feet and lunged for the door. He felt skeletal hands clutching at his hood, but with a desperate leap he ripped free and cannoned into the door, slamming it open and practically throwing himself out into the hall.

xXx

"What the…? North, ya gumby, what are you doing here? Ya know that rabbits ain't exactly nocturnal."

North whirled around at the voice, heart leaping, before he managed to recognize the accent. Sure enough, rubbing his eyes and yawning, was his furry, bucktoothed friend.

"Bunny! You're okay!"

Bunnymund blinked in puzzlement at the big man. "Okay? O' course I'm okay. Why…?" Then his emerald eyes widened in realization. "What's 'appened?"

xXx

Jack didn't take the time to actually consider what was happening to him as he turned right and sprinted through the corridor. If he had, he would've been struck by the suddenness of it all. _Why did the Pumpkin King, _who he'd never met before, _suddenly want to kill him?_ And why did it just seem too perfect—that Jack was alone, powerless, and pretty much helpless, when the Pumpkin King struck? How had the fiend known?

Cackling echoed through the halls as he ran, seeming to resonate from every corner, all around him. Where was the Pumpkin King? Jack looked back, but there was no one there.

He turned his attention back to the path in front of him—and skidded to a shocked stop. The Pumpkin King stood before him, in the middle of a crossroads, calmly blocking the stairs that led down to the globe room. Stairs to the left led up. A corridor to the right eventually led to the yetis' quarters.

Jack backed up a pace, his mind racing. To try his luck getting past the Pumpkin King, or turn and run back the way he'd come? Turning back would only prolong the inevitable; there was no way into the globe room down that corridor.

Then the Pumpkin King raised his hands and fire appeared, dancing over his fingertips, and suddenly the way back looked very appealing.

The feeling multiplied tenfold when the Pumpkin King reared and actually _threw _the fire. Jack yelped with fear and dove to the side, feeling the flames singe his back. There was a roar and a crash, and suddenly the way behind him was cut off—engulfed in an inferno of spreading orange flames.

Forward it was, then. Jack scrambled to his feet and charged. The Pumpkin King, not expecting this, stumbled back onto the stairs. Jack shoved him, ignoring the burn of the fire coming too close, and then dodged to the left, up the other flight of stairs. Behind him, he could hear a distant boom and the pumpkin-headed spirit's wail of fury. The sound sent shivers down his spine.

xXx

"You mean nothing's wrong here?" North asked in concern. "You _didn't_ send a call for help?"

"No!" Bunnymund looked very worried. "Why did you think so? What's going on, North!"

North could only remember Jack's earlier words.

"_Wait, North, I think something weird is going on…I don't know if you should go…What if it's a trap?"_

"A trap…" North mumbled in horror. He could see now that he had made a very dire mistake. They were in danger.

xXx

Up, up, up the stairs led. Jack took them two at a time. His back tingled uncomfortably where the flames had almost got him, and his hands were in the grips of the pins-and-needles feeling that usually only assaulted him when one of his limbs—usually a foot—fell asleep. He could see smudges of black and red on his knuckles, even though his hands had never come into true contact with the fire.

Finally the stairs ended, as Jack leapt up into a tiny attic. It would've been a worrying dead end and an unfortunate place to die, except that a large window was set in the sloping ceiling right across from him, shedding the otherwise stuffy room in moonlight and affording Jack a glimpse of the stars. He wasted no time in crossing to the window.

Warmth filled the space, and Jack knew that the Pumpkin King wasn't far behind. His still-tingling fingers struggled with the latch—a simple golden bolt—finally pulling it free just as the Pumpkin King's voice echoed again through the house:

"There's no use running."

The words seemed to once again vibrate from everywhere at once. With a fearful glance around, Jack quickly pushed the window open and leapt out onto the snow-blanketed roof.

It was the same as it had been what felt like only minutes ago, when he'd seen the wraith. Jack looked around at the almost mountainous layout, with all of the peaks and slopes swathed in snow. He was looking for one peak in particular—the tallest one.

The wind swirled around him, and he could almost hear its worried voice. "I'm fine," Jack panted, though he wasn't sure whether or not he was telling the truth.

He hadn't moved from in front of the window, but now, as a sudden shout of laughter and column of flame blindsided him and he just barely twisted out of the way, he realized that he _was_ lying. He was most certainly _not_ fine. Swiftly he darted across the roof, less worried about his footing and more worried about finding cover.

"Jack be nimble, Jack be quick," he heard the mocking voice of the Pumpkin King chant. "Jack ain't nothing without his stick."

Another fireball sent Jack clambering up the side of a particularly tall slope. He looked down apprehensively, and sure enough, the Pumpkin King was emerging from the window—but he wasn't walking. Jack watched in horror as the spirit rose up from the opening, hovering a dozen feet in the air, his glowing orange eyes even more devilish under the pale light of the moon.

"This…" Jack murmured to himself as he swung himself down onto a flat region of roof and started running, "is not good."

xXx

Sin Cantus watched it all with glee. He couldn't believe how fun this was—Jack trapped, flightless, on the roof, his master ready to pound the Frost whelp into next week…of course, he wasn't _really_ trapped, and he wouldn't _really_ be dead…Cantus had grander plans, after all, then just pointing his master at a child and saying, "Sic 'im."

But it was still fun to watch.

"Remember what I told you, Pumpkin King," he murmured to himself. "Aim for where it hurts most."

xXx

Jack saw the peak he'd climbed earlier that night and breathed a soundless sigh of relief, despite his predicament. Yes, a landmark! He scrambled over one last slope, slid down the other side, and leapt from the roof.

The Pumpkin King halted in surprise. Had the Frost boy just…jumped? Off of a _roof_? Surely he'd just killed himself! Unable to believe it, the pumpkin-headed spirit flew to the edge and peered over.

A snarl rose in his throat. The Frost boy was not dead, but hurriedly climbing down the wall. The easy grace with which he did it was infuriating. Time to end this young one's existence.

He, too, leapt from the edge of the house.

Jack heard his pursuer before he saw him. He was almost to the window—the same window he'd been sitting in before North had left—when there was a rush of air, and then something slammed into his back. But it didn't end there. Jack expected to be pinned against the wall, but instead he felt a shiver of cold and a rush of vertigo and darkness flashed across his eyes—and then he found himself _inside_ the workshop, _in_ the globe room, falling.

_What_…? Had the Pumpkin King just shoved him through a wall? …Or was he just going crazy?

He landed on the tiled floor next to the window seat with a wince-worthy _crack_ and a burst of pain. With a groan he rolled onto his side and clutched his stomach, curling up into a ball and trying to swallow his nausea. Something felt terribly wrong.

His ears were assaulted by a mad cackle. "It's always a little disorienting, the first time, hmm? It's called _intangibility,_ young Frost. It's a 'ghost' thing."

So he _had_ been pushed through a wall. Oh joy.

Jack managed to push himself up onto hands and knees, weakly lifted his head—and saw the Pumpkin King lunging, hands aflame. With a yell, Jack rolled to his side and shot to his feet, queasiness forgotten as fear and adrenaline gave him the strength he needed. For the first time, he noted the significance of where he was—the globe room. His original destination. He looked around frantically, and saw it—the button.

The Pumpkin King attacked, and he darted out of the way. He didn't stop, though. He had a target, and the Pumpkin King saw it immediately as Jack zipped toward it—the emergency Aurora Borealis.

_No,_ the Pumpkin King thought in horror as he finally realized his mistake. Jack was calling reinforcements. He had to be stopped.

Jack saw the Pumpkin King move out of the corner of his eye. The black and orange blur was on an interception path. The boy flung out a hand, knowing with a rush of fear that if he didn't reach it, he never would.

He threw himself forward in a final attempt to reach it before the Pumpkin King. He threw out his arm, fingers reaching, reaching…

He couldn't help the surge of elation that overwhelmed him as he felt his hand come into contact with the switch. He gripped it, turned it, and slammed it down with all of his might.

There was a mechanical whine, and then outside the window, the night lit up.

_Yes._

Then he felt himself seized by the back of his hood and jerked away.

xXx

"_I saw something—something weird and dark. I don't know if you should go."_

"_What if it's a trap? What if something wants you to leave—to get you out of the workshop?_

"_I just…something isn't right."_

"_Be quick."_

"North," Bunnymund asked, his voice firm and serious even with the Australian accent. "What's wrong? What's 'appened?"

North looked at him in horror. "Jack…"

Bunny's eyes flashed and ears pricked. "Frosty? What about 'im?"

North turned abruptly, scrabbling in his pocket for his globe. "He warned me," North muttered anxiously, feeling panic grip him. "He told me I shouldn't go, and I ignored him, and now—"

"Whoa, slow down, Mate!" Bunny exclaimed. "Warned you about what?"

Suddenly, the night lit up. A ribbon of green, blue, and pink lights rippled across the sky. One set of sapphire eyes and one set of emerald whipped up, widening as they registered what the lights were.

"Jack…" North whispered in horror, "is back at the workshop. Alone."

Bunny's eyes went even wider in shock and, amazingly, fear. His ears drooped completely. "Snowflake…"

* * *

_**AN: I would say sorry about the cliffhanger and all that…but the thing is, I believe that all good chapter endings (in the middle of stories) need to end either on an edge-of-the-seat cliffhanger, a brief lull that can be turned into something of a temporary conclusion, or something fluffy and also conclusional. That's how it works. So…here's the first of many cliffhangers. I'm sorry (for causing you any tension and/or pain, not for the cliffhanger itself) but on the bright side, I will be updating SOON. I pinky swear!**_

_**Now, for just a little thing…I am truly sorry for the Danny Phantom reference. Truly. For any of you who got that…yeah. Just…yeah.**_


	4. Jack Be Quick

_**AN: O.O OmigoodnessOmigoodnessOmigoo dnesOMIGOODNESS! And, yeah, I'm going to be one of those authors that freaks every time she gets a review. Speaking of which…**__**I GOT REVIEWS**__**. As in, **__**PLURAL**__**. Review**__**S**__**. I am in author's heaven. Thank you.**_

_**As for the early update…my plans were unexpectedly cancelled and I came back to so many reviews and followers and favs that I couldn't resist putting this up. If you guys keep this up, I might have to post this whole story this weekend… =)**_

_**Some shout outs before the story starts: **__Shadowcat Pryde__,__** thank you so much! I'm really flattered that you hold my story in such high regard. **__Novahetalia__**, I LOVE your profile pic. Hahahaha "Monitored"…and, finally, **__xNereikax__**…this chapter is your wish being granted. =) You're welcome.**_

* * *

Chapter IV  
Jack Be Quick

There was a painful _crack_ as Jack slammed against the globe and fell to the ground, groaning and curling up into a ball, clutching his side. Spots danced in front of his eyes as he felt hard fingers wrap around his arm and lift him up again, this time throwing him into a wall. He slumped to the ground, breathing heavily and trying to fight the pain.

_Just hold on…they're coming…they have to be coming…_

He'd activated the emergency Aurora Borealis…all of the Guardians had to have seen it by now…

A shadow loomed over him, and skeletal claws dug into his throat. "And you know what's even more satisfying about this?" he heard the Pumpkin King's rich voice as if through a tunnel. "After this, with you out of the way, it'll be even _easier_ to get to the rest of the Guardians."

There was a flash of colorful light as he felt himself lifted into the air and slammed into the wall behind him.

Colorful light…? That was new…

Then he realized.

xXx

North found the globe and lifted it with a sigh of relief. "Found it," he announced. "North Pole!" he threw the globe and the vortex appeared. "No complaining, Bunny; quickest way."

For once, Bunny didn't protest as North dragged him through the swirling light.

They appeared in the globe room of the workshop just in time to see a tall, pumpkin-headed man grab a defeated-looking Jack Frost by the throat and slam him against the wall. Jack kicked out feebly, searching for purchase, but he seemed weak and on his last reserves of strength, and his dangling toes were several feet above the floor.

Then he saw Bunnymund and North.

They saw his blue eyes go wide upon seeing them, and his attacker, alerted by his victim's change in expression, half-turned to look at the newcomers. He ignored Jack's scrabbling desperately at his fist, trying to draw a much-needed breath, but North and Bunnymund could see the boy's struggles weakening.

The Pumpkin King chuckled darkly, drawing their attention back to him. "Well, well, well. The cavalry arrives." He looked back at Jack, who was now not only very, _very_ pale but also kind of purple. "And here I thought they didn't care about you, Jack. After all, a person has to be pretty low to leave a _kid_ alone, powerless, _vulnerable…_"

North's fierce expression faltered as he recognized the truth to the fiend's words—this was _his_ fault, for ignoring the boy and leaving him alone.

"No," Jack gasped out, his voice hoarse. "Not…your fault…go…North…run…" He urgently needed North to understand—that if he didn't go, he'd be in danger. He needed to run! "North…!"

But the Pumpkin King snarled and clenched his fist even tighter, cutting off Jack's cries and choking him into a gross parody of silence. Jack convulsed slightly and reflexively tightened his grip on the Pumpkin King's wrist, but it did no good. He felt darkness encroaching on the edges of his vision. His friends watched in horror as the boy's eyelids fluttered and drooped, his lips parted hopefully, but not succeeding in drawing even a measly breath.

The Pumpkin King smiled in triumph and snapped the fingers of his free hand. Malevolent Spirits of Halloween—shades, banshees, ghouls, phantoms, specters, and assorted spooks of the night—appeared in a ring around the two Guardians, prompting both to draw their weapons. "Keep them busy," the Pumpkin King ordered his troops. He then turned to the barely conscious Jack and asked smugly, "Why don't we take this little chat somewhere a bit more…_private?_"

Jack felt the fingers crushing his throat release him, dropping him to the floor—to the relief of both him and his failing lungs. He sucked in a startled breath, choked on it, and began to splutter and cough.

Hands grasped his shoulders and he felt the cold and nausea from earlier return, to a lesser degree. He tried to jerk away, but the grip was as iron.

Even as the Pumpkin King turned himself and Jack intangible, he knew he had to alter his plans. With North and Bunnymund here now, he didn't have as much time as he had wished to his plan into effect

Luckily, he still had Sin's "backup" plan. The Pumpkin King tightened his grip on the boy and flew up, lifting the winter sprite up to the second floor and phasing them both through a heavy oak door.

xXx

Sandman was just cleaning up for the night, preparing for sunrise and children to wake up, when he saw them—the Northern Lights, heaving across the sky. His golden eyes widened in realization.

xXx

Toothiana, too, was out in the field. She'd just exited a house, fawning over a set of baby teeth that some twins had lost, when she felt something tugging at her sleeve. She turned her attention to Baby Tooth, a little hummingbird-like fairy who looked like a younger, mini Toothiana. The little pixie was pointing frantically.

"What…? Oh my!" Tooth then saw what Baby was pointing at—the lights reflecting off of the clouds. Quickly she flared her wings and took off into the sky.

xXx

Jack recognized the room the Pumpkin King dragged him into—North's quarters. Now able to breathe, and thinking quickly, he looked around for something—anything—he could use as a weapon.

His eyes found what he was looking for immediately. It seemed too good to be true:

His staff, propped in a corner.

He felt a wave of hope. With a cry he wrenched himself from the Pumpkin King's grip, lunging for the shepherd's crook. For two days he'd longed to hold it in his hand, but now, that longing had escalated to a need. If he could just reach his staff, he'd be able to fight back. He'd be able to destroy this creep. He could save himself, and his friends, and whoever else this spirit planned on targeting.

He threw out a grasping hand…

xXx

The window in the globe room burst open, admitting a purple, blue, and green blur of wings and a golden plane.

"Tooth!" North cried in relief. "Sandy!"

"North!" Toothiana greeted him. "What's—oh my!" She looked down on the battle in horror.

Sandy didn't waste time. His plane dissolved, whips appeared in his hand, and he dive-bombed into the fray. He gestured frantically for Toothiana to join them, and, with a ruffle of her feathers, she zipped forward, razor-sharp wings a blur.

North searched out Bunnymund and finally found him, grappling with a couple specters. "Bunny!" he shouted as he ran a banshee through with his sword. "Go! Find Jack!"

Bunny paused to appraise the battlefield. With Tooth and Sandy on the attack, the evil spirits were less of a challenge. He saw that they could spare him—especially since he was the quickest. He nodded once at North, his green eyes hard with determination, and bounded toward the stairs, already locked on his destination—North's quarters.

xXx

A burst of flame struck Jack, knocking him off course and spinning him into a wall. He could feel heat scorch his jacket, but he was in too much of a daze to do anything about it. He looked up woozily, shaking his head dazedly to try and clear the haze.

Two blurry forms were standing over him…no…one form, he realized as the static cleared slightly. It was the Pumpkin King, holding something aloft in triumph.

As the scene finally focused, Jack realized in horror what it was—a long, thin piece of wood that resembled a shepherd's crook. The Pumpkin King was standing in the middle of the room, clutching Jack's staff.

He remembered what had happened the last time an enemy had gotten ahold of his staff—Pitch. It had been painful, to say the least. With a cry Jack staggered to his feet, dizziness and burns forgotten, and lunged at the spirit.

It was too late.

Jack watched in dismay as a twitch of the Pumpkin King's thin arms snapped his staff in half like kindling. His lunge turned into a stumble and then a fall. Jack clutched his chest and dropped to his knees as a sharp pain in his heart set him gasping for breath. His senses blurred and sputtered like a faulty projector or defective radio.

The Pumpkin King's rich voice echoed in his ears, but he couldn't make out the words. He looked up, eyes watering, to see both pieces of staff braced in the Pumpkin King's hands.

_He's going to break it again_, Jack realized, stunned at both the cruelty of this man and the sudden animal fear that he found gripping his heart.

Another explosion of pain, accompanied by a second brittle cracking sound and a horrible keening. Jack realized that the sound was him—he was screaming—but he couldn't prevent the cry from bubbling from his lips. He fell forward, onto hands and knees, trying to fight the burning in his heart. His arms trembled, and his scream dissolved into gasping, sobbing pants.

Somewhere close, a door slammed open. Jack raised his head dazedly to see Bunnymund burst into the room, boomerangs ready.

Jack felt a small pang of gratitude that he wasn't alone—but at the same time, as the vision of Bunnymund began to dissipate into darkness, he knew it was too late.

xXx

Bunnymund was almost there—almost there—when his sensitive ears picked up a crash and then, confusingly, a snapping sound. His concern grew when he heard a thump and labored breathing—most definitely Jack.

A mocking voice sent a shiver down the oversized rabbit's spine: "It _hurts,_ doesn't it? Can you feel it in your very core, like a knife?"

This time, the cracking sound is louder, doubled. And then…

xXx

North couldn't help freezing when he heard it—an agonized scream. His blue eyes went wide with horror when he realized what its source was, but then another ghost jumped him, and he was forced to defend himself.

xXx

Toothiana didn't know where it came from—an inhuman cry, echoing over the battlefield, seeming to give everyone pause. The torment in it gave it a terrifying, unnatural quality, but still she recognized it. "Jack!" she gasped in horror. She tried to leap from the battlefield, but an ugly, female spirit—a banshee—caught hold of her foot, and she realized that she could not abandon the fight.

xXx

Sandman knew immediately where the haunting sound came from. His worried golden eyes flew to the second floor, where the door to North's quarters was achingly visible.

xXx

The cry effectively stopped Bunny in his tracks, stunning him. Never had he heard Frostbite sound so terrified and in pain. Just _what_ was that pumpkin-headed devil _doing_ to him?

Something cuffed him upside the shoulder, and he turned to see a tendril of sand retreating. Down below, Sandy was gesturing at him frantically, urging him to move.

It wasn't only his sandy friend that sped him forward. The scream died, replaced by something that was, somehow, even more horrible. He could hear Jack's gasps for breath, the fluttering, too-fast pounding of his heart, and, disturbingly, the weak sobbing that was almost masked by the panting. The boy sounded so…vulnerable. So much like any other scared, wounded child.

Bunnymund burst through the door, kicking it open with his powerful feet even as he reached for his boomerangs. As his emerald eyes automatically scanned the scene before him, his heart dropped.

The pumpkin-headed spirit stood tall and triumphant over a comparatively small form. Jack was on hands and knees, trembling like a leaf on a tree, obviously struggling to stay up. He flinched at the sound of the door, and weakly lifted his head.

Bunnymund would never forget the look on that Snowflake's face—the tears frozen on his pale cheeks, the pain repressed behind his icy blue irises, the way those sapphire eyes widened upon seeing Bunny. Was it with hope, relief, or, even worse, fear? He couldn't hide his suffering, and that alone seemed to change him entirely—make him younger.

Then his eyes rolled back into his head and his arms buckled. With a weak sigh, Jack collapsed onto his side, limp as a rag doll.

Bunny might not have been able to tear his eyes from the boy's still form, had his attention not been abruptly drawn by an empty clattering sound.

The Pumpkin King threw down the remains of Jack's staff, allowing them to drop without ceremony to the wooden floor. "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick," he repeated in a singsong tone, soft with some emotion Bunny couldn't identify. "For Jack's life is tied to an old, frail stick." He looked up and finally caught sight of Bunny.

"I had planned something big for today," he said with real regret. "Or, more literally flashing hotter for a moment. "But you've all ruined that. Congratulate yourself. This means war. On you, on the rest of the Guardians, and, most importantly, on the children of this world. You shall learn to fear the Pumpkin King!" He raised his hand and slashed the air dramatically, darkness opening under his fingertips as if he had rent the very light, opening some kind of path.

"My spirits!" he cried, his voice echoing like a ghost's wail through the entire workshop. "To me!"

xXx

"To me!"

The call seemed to ricochet off of the very walls. As one, the army turned and rose into the air, abandoning the fight. The three Guardians watched in confusion and awe as the shadows of the night joined into one huge mass and funneled through the door to North's quarters.

Sandy, Toothiana, and North rushed up the stairs, flinging open the door in time only to witness Bunny lunging at the strange pumpkin-headed spirit just as it disappeared through a rip-like opening in the air. He and all of his minions vanished, and Bunny was left panting in an empty, dimly lit room, boomerangs hanging useless at his sides.

Well, an _almost_ empty room.

Bunny forgot about the sinister spirit quickly, opting instead to sheathe his boomerangs and bound over to something lying in the shadows. At first, the other three Guardians could not make out what it was, with Bunnymund blocking their view.

Then he shifted slightly. Toothiana gasped with horror and flitted over. North stopped cold. Sandman's eyes went wide and he, too, stopped.

They had seen him.

Bunny tentatively pawed at Jack's shoulder. "Frostbite?" he asked hopefully.

No response. The Australian leaned down and nosed the boy's cheek, sniffing uncertainly. Still no response. With a nudge, Bunnymund rolled Jack over, onto his back.

No one commented on how limp and lifeless the winter sprite's movements were—the way his arm flopped down at his side, or how his head lolled, or the dull thump of his body settling—but all four noticed. His eyes remained closed, his features—expressionless. The teardrops were still frozen on his cheeks, crystalized for everyone to see.

"Is he…?" Tooth asked, her voice soft with trepidation. "No. No, he can't be. He's immortal. We're _all_ immortal. We can't die!"

She sounded like she desperately _wanted_ to believe…but at the same time, she hadn't convinced anyone, least of all herself. Everyone held their breath and drew closer as Bunnymund pressed a paw to Jack's neck, feeling for a pulse.

His shoulders sagged in relief. "He's alive."

Everyone relaxed, sharing happy glances and tired smiles.

Bunnymund didn't move from his spot by Jack, but he did look away. Tooth followed his gaze, wondering what…and then sighing softly. She darted over to the four pieces of splintered wood lying abandoned by North's large bed. Everyone's attentions were drawn to her as she picked up two pieces that were obviously meant to be one and held them together. She spent a brief moment trying to fit them together like puzzle pieces, but even when they were joined just right, they were not fixed. She relaxed her grip, and the two once again broke apart.

She lifted her purple gaze from the wood to look up at her fellow Guardians helplessly. "How do we fix _this_?" she asked sadly. "He needs…he…he needs this."

North felt a pang, a wave of guilt. Wordlessly he turned away, closing his eyes and sighing. She was right. Jack did need that staff…and now, it was just a broken stick. It was no use to anyone.

Because North had confiscated that stick, Jack had been unable to defend himself. Because North had let one moment of anger dictate his actions, Jack had ended up like…like…

He glanced again at Jack, sprawled motionless on his bedroom floor.

Like this.

Silently, North strode out of the room.

* * *

_**AN: So, like? Not as much of a cliffhanger as before (the immediate action has now hit the Great Lull) but it's still pretty bad, I guess. After all…what happens next?! Wait, why am I asking you? **__**I**__** know perfectly well.**_

_**I shall update SOON. 'Til then…see y'all later. Hope you like, and I hope they're all in character!**_

_**Also, for all of you who commented on the cliffhanger last chapter…there will be more. I'm happy to inform you that most of these will end on cliffhangers. Luckily, as you can see, I'm a sucker for people begging me to update. I can't refuse. It's my fatal flaw. *pout***_

_**EDIT: Crap! So, I went back to look through the story and found that NONE OF MY LINE BREAKS MADE IT THROUGH. I had astericks seperating sections...and none of them were there!**_

_**I've fixed it, but I am TRULY sorry for any confusion and/or frustration it may have caused. Gah!**_


	5. Memory Lane

_**AN: I wasn't going to post anymore tonight, but one of you convinced me. Everyone, please send out a big thank you to **__AnaEl92__**, who also pointed out to me my lack of line breaks. Gah! Apparently none of my line breaks (asterisks) were making any appearance on the official documents. So, I fixed that. Hope it's better and less confusing now! :)**_

* * *

**The Time Jack Lost His Stick**

By: C.L.

Chapter V  
Memory Lane

"North?"

The sun had risen on a new morning, and they'd moved Jack back to his temporary room. Bunny, Sandy, and Tooth had been inseparable from the unconscious boy. Taken out of the shadows, he was an even worse sight—knuckles blistered and burned, clothes singed and ripped, and face stained with soot and scrapes. He looked like he'd just been through a fight for his life…and he had.

North couldn't bear to look at the boy. He shouldn't have ended up like this. He shouldn't have _had_ to fight for his life. He shouldn't have been left alone—even for a moment.

"North?" Toothiana asked again in concern. The big man stood out in the hall, his back to the door. He hadn't come into the room. "Please, answer me."

North knew he couldn't stay silent, but he didn't know what to say. What does one say in a situation such as this? Knowing what he knew? That Jack was in there, comatose, because of _him?_

"North." Tooth's voice was stern now. "You had better come in here right now. You haven't even looked at him since we found him. What is wrong with you?"

North sighed. "It's all my fault, Tooth."

"What…? Oh. Oh, no, North, please don't—"

"It is!" North interrupted, turning angrily to face her. He found her hovering in the doorway to the room, clasping her hands and gazing at him pleadingly. "I should never have left him alone. I should never have taken staff. What if he never wakes up?!"

Tooth glared at him. "Don't even _say_ that!" she fumed, flying right up in his face, purple eyes fierce. "He _will_ wake up! He's alive, and he's immortal, and he _will_ wake up! But right now he is hurt and asleep, and when he wakes up he'll be scared. He'll _need_ you, North. You may think you let him down, but that can't stop you from being there for him _now!_" She drew back and folded her arms angrily across her chest, still glowering at him. "When he wakes up, I want all of us there to greet him! Don't you dare even _think_ about staying out here while he stays in there!"

North looked at her, stunned at her rage. Then he bowed his head, now doubly ashamed of himself.

Tooth saw this and immediately deflated. "Look, North…just come in and see him. Please."

North was silent. For a moment, Tooth was fearful he wouldn't respond. Then he nodded once, turned, and pushed past her into the room of the boy he'd wronged.

He stopped just in the doorway. Toothiana had removed the boy's hoodie—the better to treat his numerous injuries—and the full extent of the damage could be seen. There was an enormous bruise stretching across his left side, and he was lying on his stomach, due to a red, blistering mark on his back that stood out painfully against his otherwise pale skin—obviously a burn.

Toothiana flitted in and caught North's look. "Fire," she said sadly in explanation. "We think the spirit had…fire capabilities."

North almost walked right back out at this. Not only had Jack fought a deranged spirit, but he, a winter sprite, had been forced to defend himself against a deranged spirit with _fire_ powers.

The normally jolly man was finding it very hard to go back to his typical upbeat self.

North let his gaze wander, studying his fellow Guardians. Sandy floated on the far side of the boy's bed, expression exceedingly mournful as he manipulated golden sand to fly over the boy's head, forming into leaping dolphins and whirling snowflakes. Bunny was crouched with his back to North, at the head of Jack's bed. His green gaze was so sad and full of self-blame that North was startled. One would think by the rabbit's complaining that Bunny would be less distressed, but apparently, though "Frostbite" could get on the his nerves when conscious, that didn't stop Bunnymund from caring—or worrying. Tentatively, North moved farther into the room.

Toothiana flitted over to the bed, murmuring in motherly concern and tenderly brushing away the teardrops that had, until then, still been frozen on the winter sprite's pale cheeks.

Jack's eyelids fluttered, his brow twitching as if disturbed. Tooth gasped and drew back, checked herself as she realized what was happening, and leaned in closer. Her fellow Guardians all unconsciously pressed closer around the bed.

Jack stirred slightly, and a small moan escaped his lips as he jostled his injuries. His eyelids fluttered, tightened, and, finally, slid open. He blinked dazedly at the many colorful faces he could see hovering over him out of the corner of his eye.

"Jack?" Tooth asked softly, not wanting to startle him.

He frowned, still looking woozy and vaguely not all there, and shifted, gingerly rolling onto his side, the better to see them all. "…Guys?" he mumbled eventually, sounding as if he didn't quite believe it.

All four of them nodded. "Are you alright?" Toothiana asked, leaning in even closer. "How do you feel?"

He looked up at her, eyes unfocused. "I…guys? You're here…you…came…" He had to struggle to force the right words out.

Toothiana bit her lip and blinked back the sudden tears burning behind her eyes. She reached down and picked up his hand. "Of course we came, Sweet Tooth. We'll always come."

Jack was breathing kind of heavily now, his eyelids fluttering. He was obviously on

the brink of falling back into unconsciousness, but desperately trying to stay up. He let his gaze rove over each one of them, drinking the sight in. An attempt at a smile twitched the corners of his lips, but it looked painful. "Thank…s…" he whispered weakly. He squeezed Tooth's hand feebly, and then his eyes drifted closed, and he went limp. His grip on her fingers lasted for a brief second longer, seeming to tighten as if on a lifeline, and then that, too, relaxed.

Toothiana looked concerned and reached out to rouse him, but Sandy stopped her with a serious shake of his head. An image of multiple Z's floated above his head. The message was clear: Let him sleep. Reluctantly Tooth withdrew her hand.

Bunnymund's eyes were still riveted on the boy's face, just like North's. _"Thanks,"_ Jack had said. He'd smiled. And thanked them. For coming.

But both spirits still couldn't help feeling guilty about coming too late.

"What now?" Toothiana finally asked the big question.

Bunnymund looked up, his gaze fierce. "We 'unt down that bloody, idiot excuse for a devil and make pumpkin pie outta his head."

Sandy immediately conjured a knife and fork and gripped them tightly, expression and actions clearly stating that he was ready to help. Tooth looked uncertain, though. She looked at Bunnymund, and then at the sleeping Jack, and then at Bunnymund, and then at Jack.

"I don't know," she said finally. "I just…don't understand. What is going on? Yesterday…this morning, even…everything was normal, right? So what happened? Why does this…spirit…want to hurt Jack? Why so sudden?" She turned to look at North. "Do we even know who he was?"

Before North could respond, Bunnymund replied: "The Pumpkin King."

All eyes turned to him. Sandy cocked his head questioningly.

"'E called 'imself the Pumpkin King," Bunny explained. "When I…found 'im and Snowflake here…he said that we would 'learn to fear the Pumpkin King'. 'E said something about declarin' war."

"On who?" Toothiana asked in confusion. "Why? How?"

Bunnymund closed his eyes, trying to remember. That had been a stressful, traumatic two minutes; it was hard to recall exact details. "'E said…that he 'ad 'ad big plans for tomorrow, and that we 'ad ruined 'em. 'E bloody decided to declare war on everybody. Us, the world, the children…" He looked down at Jack.

"'Big plans for tomorrow'," Toothiana mused. "So, today? What's today?"

Sandy waved to get everyone's attention and a picture of some bats, a pumpkin, and candy corn appeared in golden sand over his head.

"Halloween?" Toothiana asked. Sandman nodded emphatically. "Big plans for Halloween…" Toothiana pondered.

Everyone sank into thought.

"Do you think…that he said something to Jack about it?" Toothiana asked finally.

Everyone exchanged looks.

"Well, it's not like 'e can tell us, Mate," Bunny pointed out. "'E's bloody out cold."

Tooth tapped her chin thoughtfully as she studied the boy's face. Bunny had a bad feeling that she was about to suggest something decidedly stupid.

"But even in sleep, he'd have his memories of the fight, right?" Tooth looked up at them. "I'm the Guardian of Memories; I _have_ to be able to do _something_."

Bunnymund and Sandman exchanged looks. Sandy broke his gaze first, looking up at Tooth and nodding. Bunny sighed. "What can you do?"

Tooth frowned thoughtfully. "Well, he may be a spirit, but he's still a child…" She poked at Jack's mouth, stuck her hand in quickly, and grabbed ahold of one of his canines. "Come on," she muttered under her breath. "Give me some memories…I need the Pumpkin King."

For a moment, nothing happened. Tooth almost thought that her theory was a bust.

Then her vision dissolved into glowing snowflakes, and she was lost in a memory.

xXx

_A warmth. Something's wrong._

"_Hello, Jack Frost."_

_Heart pounding. Nothing. Alone. "Who's there?"_

"_My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? Missing something, are we?"_

"_Who are you?!"_

_Glowing eyes. A mocking leer._

"_I, my dear boy, am the Pumpkin King."_

"_The…? …L-look, if this is about that whole 'bring First Frost on Halloween' thing, I'm really sorry. I…I can move it up. I swear, I didn't mean anything by it…"_

_A mocking laugh. "Look at you, trembling! No, child, this is not about Halloween. And apologies won't get you anywhere. I've come on a different mission."_

"_Oh really?"_

_A spark of an idea._

"_What do you want?"_

"_Why, to kill you of course."_

. . .

_Sneering laughter; cold cackling._

_Horrible warmth. Fingers tingling, back singed. Running, running. Powerless. Can't fly._

"_There's no use running."_

_Out into the cold night air. A worried friend. "I'm fine." A whispered promise; a whispered lie. _

"_Jack be nimble, Jack be quick."_

_Scramble for cover._

"_Jack ain't nothing without his stick."_

_Fleeing._

"_This…is not good."_

. . .

_A leap of faith. Climbing._

_Cold. Nausea. What…?_

"_It's always a little disorienting, the first time, hmm? It's called _intangibility_, young Frost. It's a 'ghost' thing."_

_Target in sight. Relief. Jump. Hand outstretched._

_Grip. Twist. Slam._

_Elation._

_Help is on the way._

_Grabbed. Pulled away._

_Just hold on…they're coming…they have to be coming…_

"_And you know what's even more satisfying about this? After this, with you out of the way, it'll be even _easier_ to get to the rest of the Guardians."_

_What…?_

_Horror._

_No._

_Colorful lights. Friends. Help._

_But he doesn't want help. Not anymore._

"_Well, well, well. The cavalry arrives. And here I thought they didn't care about you, Jack. After all, a person has to be pretty low to leave a kid alone, powerless, _vulnerable_."_

"_No. Not…your fault…North…North…!" 'Run! He's after all of us!' No words come out. Choked into silence._

_Vision blurring. Can't breathe. Can't…breathe…_

"_Why don't we take this little chat somewhere a bit more…_private_?"_

_Respite._

. . .

_Hope, like a wave._

_Snuffed out, like a candle._

_Pain. Burned. Staff…_

_Just like Pitch. No…_

Snap_._

xXx

"Tooth!"

Tooth flinched back with a gasp, almost throwing herself away. She was trembling, she realized. She looked at Jack with new eyes, though. She couldn't believe what he'd gone through. Even still, with the memories ended, she could hear whispers snaking through her mind—the remnants of the experience. A second snap, a burst of pain, a horrible scream.

And, finally, she could hear a voice, distantly, as if through a long tunnel:

"_Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. For Jack's life is tied to an old, frail stick."_

She shuddered. How could anyone be so…cruel? And sick? And twisted? Jack was just a child! Who could do something so horrible?

"Well?" Bunnymund asked. Everyone was looking at her expectantly. Sandy looked concerned. No doubt he could see how flustered and affected she was by what she had witnessed.

Tooth shook herself out, straightening her feathers and composing herself. "You're right; he is called the Pumpkin King. He's the spirit of Halloween." She slowly lowered herself down onto Jack's bed, sitting at his feet. She didn't feel well enough to fly anymore. "He chased Jack through the workshop, and Jack made his way to the Aurora Borealis to call for help."

Tooth shuddered and stopped. She could still here that rich, mocking voice.

"_Jack be nimble, Jack be quick…_"

She found herself murmuring the words out loud. It was catchy in a horrible, terrible way. Everyone stared at her. "What was that?" Bunny asked uncertainly.

Tooth shook her head. "Don't ask," she sighed sadly. "Anyway, the Pumpkin King _did_ say something to Jack—right before you arrived. He said 'And you know what's even more satisfying about this? After this, with you out of the way, it'll be even easier to get to the rest of the Guardians.'"

Silence.

"So…it ain't just about Frostbite then," Bunnymund said. "It's about all of us."

Tooth nodded. "He just went after Jack because he's one of our most powerful…and was the…the…"

She swallowed and unconsciously found her eyes flicking to North. She averted her gaze. "The…perfect target."

All of them found their gazes drawn to the remnants of Jack's staff.

"Well," Bunny said eventually. "I don't think this changes anything."

All eyes turned to him.

"I mean, it's obvious, ain't it? Now we 'ave even more reason to go after this guy. He's obviously a major threat."

Sandman nodded and two whips appeared in his hands. His expression was scrunched up in determination.

Tooth looked back and forth between the two, looking uncertain and scared. Then her eyes narrowed with resolve and she nodded. "Yes. Obviously this Pumpkin King plans on attacking us again, and he did threaten the children. He's our problem now." She leapt off the bed and turned to face North. "You ready to pull yourself together and join us?"

North hadn't spoken through this whole conversation, but he had been steadily rising from 'self-blame' to 'righteous fury'. He met Toothiana's gaze and nodded, blue eyes burning. "No one hurts family and gets away with it," he announced, voice firm and dangerous.

Toothiana smiled at him. "I knew you would come around."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Bunnymund suddenly interrupted the moment, waving his paws and shaking his head. "One thing. Who's gonna stay and watch ova' Frostbite?"

That threw everyone for a loop. Obviously each and every one of them wanted to go make the Pumpkin King pay for ever even touching their youngest member…but each of them also couldn't imagine just leaving Jack alone _again._ Hadn't they learned anything from the night's previous events?

Bunnymund nodded once. "Okay. I'll watch over 'im."

That also brought the rest up short. Bunnymund? Watching over Jack? While everyone else went out and fought? Toothiana had already been reconciling herself to the fact that _she'd_ have to stay back while the boys went out and fought evil.

"Y-you?" she asked. "Are you sure? Why?"

Bunnymund looked away. "I just…want to be there when he wakes up again."

Toothiana frowned at him, but North understood. He wanted to, as well. He wanted to be there to apologize and tell Jack that it would never ever happen again and reassure the boy that his friends would always be there for him. He also knew that Bunnymund was feeling much the same guilt North was.

"Let him, Tooth," North cautioned her. He smiled understandingly at Bunnymund. "Take good care of him, Bunny." He cocked an eyebrow. "And no fire."

Bunny smiled gratefully. "Thanks. Now, go kick Pumpkin King butt, eh? Punch him in the face for me."

The other three all nodded, said their final goodbyes, and filed out the door. Bunny watched the empty doorway for a moment, before breathing a sigh of resignation and pulling up a chair. He may have volunteered to play babysitter, and he may have really, _really_ wanted to be there when the kid woke up…but he also had a feeling that his next few hours were going to be a lot less eventful that those of his friends.

"Ya'd better _really_ appreciate this, Frost," he muttered as he sat down. "'Cause I'm itching to use my boomerangs on _somebody_ and I've just willingly prevented myself from using them on the Pumpkin King."

Jack didn't stir.

* * *

_**AN: I am so much of a pushover, it ain't even FUNNY. Why? Why? Five chapters today, and I was thinking I wouldn't post the third for two days at least. Oh well.**_

_**I swear, though, no more updates tonight. I WILL practice some self-restraint. I WILL.**_

**Ira: Yeah right.**

**C.L.: I **_**will!**_** I swear! I **_**will!**_

**Ira: …*knowing look***

_**I'll bet you anything I won't update anymore tonight. You guys'll have time to catch up with these five chapters, and next chapter should put an end to the Great Lull. After all, it IS called 'Charging Into Battle'.**_

_**I won't update again tonight…**_

_**But tomorrow is fair game. :)**_

_**Cross your fingers; hopefully I'll be back at least by tomorrow afternoon, depending on how hard real life hits me.**_


	6. Charging Into Battle

_**AN: First of all, Happy Easter! Remember, fellow RotG fans: Easter is about Hope…New Beginnings…New Life…and Easter may have ended up being a sad time in the movie (*shudder* - - the Fall) but I sincerely hope that today, YOUR Easter was exactly what it stands for. And I hope Bunnymund paid y'all a visit! :)**_

_**Secondly, I'm back! Yay! Real life did hit me pretty hard today, so this will most likely be your only chapter today. But it's pretty long (over 4000 words…in my experience here, that's pretty long for one chapter, yah?), so hopefully it'll tide you over.**_

_**And third and lastly: thank you SO much to all my reviewers! This is kind of a dream come true to get such a positive, enthusiastic reception! Over one thousand views, 30 followers, 17 favorites, and 14 reviews, in two days! I don't know what's average, less-than-average, or more-than-average around these parts, but I, for one, am blown away. Thank you!**_

_**Now, this is getting long, and I know you'll want to get on to the story, if only to get away from my lengthy spiels, so…here we go! The Great Lull is coming to a conclusion, and the pieces and pawns on the Chessboard of this Story are being put into position to begin the final battle. I hope you're ready.**_

* * *

**The Time Jack Lost His Stick  
**By: C.L.

Chapter VI  
Charging into Battle

Baby Tooth was all a flutter by the time she arrived at the Pole. Toothiana had just buzzed off as quick as she could, leaving all of her MiniFairies behind, and Baby Tooth was left to find her own way to the Pole—a long flight, to be sure.

All was quiet as she darted through an open window. Nothing moved. She looked around nervously and flitted deeper into the building.

Then she felt it: a cold breeze. Her eyes widened and she quickly flew off down the hall, following the draft.

xXx

"Do we know where we're going?" Tooth asked as North finally righted the sleigh after their hectic takeoff and hefted his globe.

Sandy and North looked at each other, both hoping the other would say 'yes'. Neither did.

No one knew where to find the Pumpkin King.

Toothiana immediately flew up to where North was sitting in the driver's seat and starting chatting, face serious. They were so caught up in their debate that they didn't notice Sandy peer curiously over the edge of the sleigh, give a start, and start waving to get their attention.

"I think we should go this way; it's only logical—"

"But what if Pumpkin King went _this_ way? We cannot know—"

"How can you be certain! He could be anywhere; oh dear, this was _not_ well planned out. How are we going to—"

They were interrupted by a frantic banging. They both turned to see Sandy jumping up and down to get their attention. Golden eyes wide, he pointed at something below the sleigh.

They peered out.

Below them, a dark, wraith-like specter was skimming the snow-covered mountains, flying with purpose obviously in mind. He looked like a spirit who had somewhere to be.

"Do you think it's one of Pumpkin King's?" Tooth asked.

"Is safe bet," North mused. "Follow?"

Sandy nodded emphatically. He didn't need any pictures to convey agreement.

Tooth looked back at the wraith, studying it. Finally she gave a shudder and pulled back into the safety of the sleigh. "It looks so unnatural. So weird and dark."

Her words hit North hard. He turned away abruptly, turning his full attention to driving and following the creature.

But still, as the sun rose higher into the sky and the world awoke from its drowsy dawn to greet a gray morning, North couldn't help but remember Jack's words.

"_I saw something—something weird and dark. I don't know if you should go."_

North looked up at the sky, where the moon was still visible but fading. _We had ample warning,_ he thought with sadness. _So why did we not see the signs?_

Man in Moon did not reply.

xXx

Bunnymund looked up at the frantic chirping that lit the air. What the heck…? Then Baby Tooth buzzed into the room and the strange squeaking made a lot more sense.

Baby Tooth stopped upon seeing Jack lying on his side in bed, shirt off to reveal the distressing marks of his struggle. Then she darted forward, buzzing frantically, and attached herself to his nose, murmuring affectionately and stroking his brow comfortingly. When he didn't wake up, she glared at Bunny, as if blaming him personally.

"What?" Bunnymund protested. "Ya think I don' want 'im awake as much as you?"

Baby Tooth sniffed and released the boy's nose, choosing instead to nest in his messy silver hair. Bunny almost snorted. It was well known that Jack and Baby Tooth had a special bond—like Peter Pan and Tinker Bell—but it was still funny and kind of ridiculous.

Baby Tooth directed a questioning chirp at him.

He had no clue what she was saying.

Seeing this, the little tooth fairy rolled her eyes and nestled deeper into Jack's silver locks, set on waiting for him to wake.

Bunnymund rolled his eyes. "Ain't gonna happen too soon, li'llun. 'E's gonna be out a while."

Baby Tooth glared at him and turned away.

"Jeez, it ain't my fault, ya know. I mean…" Bunny's ears drooped. "Not really."

Still Baby Tooth ignored him, instead choosing to scan the room, suddenly wondering. Where…? She saw it, let out a startled chirp, and rocketed from her impromptu nest.

Bunny watched disinterestedly as she flew distressed circles around the broken pieces of staff. "Yeah. Stupid devil broke it. Don' blame me."

She shook her head frantically and flew right up in Bunny's face, babbling a long string of completely incomprehensible twittering.

"I can't understand ya, Mate. Sorry."

Baby Tooth huffed and buzzed away, once again circling the staff. She grabbed the crook and tugged at it, but no matter how much she strained, it didn't move more than one painful centimeter.

Bunny watched, growing ever more puzzled. Yeah, so the stupid stick was broken. Why was Baby Tooth so distressed?

She shot more gibberish his way. He could only shrug and stare at her helplessly as she gestured frantically.

xXx

"I was thinking."

North looked over at Tooth in surprise. "Hmm? Okay. We all think, no?"

Tooth shook her head sadly and looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "Yeah, but…I was thinking about his memories."

"Ah."

"He…thought something horrible."

North looked at her quickly. "What kind of horrible?"

"What?" She looked up at him, startled by his fierce tone. "Oh, no, not _that_ kind of horrible. I just…when he saw the Pumpkin King holding his staff, he panicked but…it wasn't the panicking that you'd expect." She took a deep breath and said softly, "Jack thought, 'He's gonna break it. He's gonna break it, just like Pitch did'."

The sleigh almost fell out of the sky as North struggled to reign in his surprise and forgot about the actual reigns in his hands. He managed to right the vehicle and turned abruptly toward Tooth. "_Pitch_? Pitch broke his staff? When? Where? Why did we not know?"

Tooth shuddered and tears filled her eyes. "I only got glimpses, but he…he remembered…and…I think it was a couple months ago. During that last fight. After…Easter. When we…after we…chased him out."

North turned away, shell-shocked. "Pitch…"

Tooth sniffed. "Jack…_gave_ him the staff. Because Pitch…threatened to kill Baby Tooth if he didn't."

North closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Why did he never tell us?"

Tooth shook her head. "It's all our fault, North. He doesn't blame us, but _I_ do. How could we have done that? Chased him out like that? How could we have left him vulnerable to Pitch? And…and doubted him? How could we have doubted him?"

North bowed his head. "I see what you meant, now," he said to her softly. "You and Bunny. You told me that Jack wasn't meant to grow up. Bunny told me that Jack was already responsible enough, given right circumstances. I see now."

Tooth didn't reply or acknowledge his statement. She stared off into the distance, distressed purple eyes unfocused.

North was getting tired of guilt. He wanted a different emotion. Anger, joy, sadness even. Something different…

He thought of Jack, back at the workshop, waking up to find his staff broken into four different pieces. Then that sleepy attempt at a smile would be gone, replaced by devastation…

Wait.

Unless…

North turned abruptly to Toothiana. "How did boy fix ice stick first time?"

xXx

Bunnymund was completely perplexed. He'd finally figured out that Baby Tooth had something urgent to tell him, but, for the life of him, he just couldn't understand her!

"Look, pixie, I'd 'elp if I could, but I 'ave no idea wot you're tryin' to tell me," Bunny said helplessly as she buzzed angrily around his head.

She sighed heavily, and pointed at him.

"Me," he interpreted.

She flitted over to the stick and circled it.

"Stick," he translated. "Okay…I don' get it."

She slapped her forehead in exasperation, flew over, and grabbed his finger, tugging on him.

"Alright, alright, don' get your feathers in a bunch," Bunny muttered as he finally realized that she wanted him to get up, and so did so. She led him over to the stick, and pointed at it.

"Yeah? So what? It's his stick. It's _broken._"

Baby Tooth grabbed the crook once again and tried to pick it up. Seeing that she needed help, Bunnymund rolled his eyes, reached down, and grasped the stick, lifting it for her. To his surprise, she let out a squeal of triumph.

"Really? That's wot ya've been trying to tell me this 'ole time? To pick it up?" Bunnymund asked in disbelief. And here he thought it had been something important…

Baby Tooth found the stick that had previously been attached to the crook now in Bunny's hand and tugged at it.

"An' let me guess. Ya want me to pick that one up too."

Baby Tooth nodded, grinning happily that the big rabbit finally understood, as he reached down and lifted it from her own much smaller fingers.

"Now what?" Bunny asked with a sigh, figuring that there was more to the little pixie's plan. Baby Tooth grabbed him by the ear—causing him to jerk away and shout in protest—and pulled him over to Jack's bedside. She gestured for him to place the sticks by Jack's hand.

"It won' be any use to 'im," Bunny warned her, complying anyway. "It's—"

He cut off upon seeing Jack's fingers twitch as he set the wood down.

"—broken…" he finished dazedly, his mind already racing on a completely different thought process.

Had it been a trick of the light? Had the boy really moved? And had the movement really been caused by the stick?

Baby Tooth's cheers of gibberish suggested that, in order, the answers to those questions were: No, yes, and yes.

Baby Tooth started to roll the pieces closer to Jack's hand, and this time Bunny helped without being asked. He watched as the pieces came into contact with the boy's long, pale fingers, and frost began to creep ever so slowly up their surfaces, encasing the break.

And Bunny realized what was happening.

Excited now, he retrieved the last two pieces and placed all four in a line by Jack's hand, lengthwise on the edge of the bed. The frost climbed up the length of the now-glowing staff, thickening until it was rock hard. Jack shifted and his other hand, previously hidden under the blanket, reached out for the source of the disturbance, inching from under the thin sheet. Now both hands were touching its blessedly cool surface.

Bunny watched, eyes wide. It was the first time the boy had moved since falling back asleep.

Agitation flickered across Jack's previously expressionless features, and he stirred again, letting out a low groan of distress. His fingers spasmed and closed tight around the stick.

The resulting flash of white light threw both Baby Tooth and Bunnymund away from Jack's bedside. When the radiance died, the stick was whole, lying side by side with its master, and Jack looked much better—closer to his typical pale, breathing normally, features clear of any pain whatsoever. Bunny noticed that his knuckles were no longer singed, but instead were unblemished.

Baby Tooth fluttered over, cooing softly and nudging the boy's hand. When he didn't stir again, she flew up and poked his cheek, babbling hopeful gibberish. Taking that as his cue, Bunnymund, too, stood and approached the bed.

"Snowball?" he asked hopefully. "Frostbite? Jack?" He pawed Jack's arm.

Jack's brow creased as if in confusion and his eyelids flickered, as if he was fighting to wake up.

Then, finally, his blue eyes slid open, revealing sapphire depths shrouded in hazy confusion. He looked up at Bunnymund dazedly, frowning sleepily. "What…?"

Bunnymund felt a prickle of worry. "Snowflake? Do you remember anything?"

Jack stared at him, puzzled. Remember? What was there to remember? Wait, why was he in bed? Why was Bunny hovering over him? Why did he look so worried…

And then he remembered.

A wave of alarm swamped him and he gasped for breath, sitting up suddenly as if jolted, hands reaching out instinctively to clutch at his staff—

And, to his surprise, actually _did_ clutch at a whole, distinctly _not_-broken staff.

Alarm forgotten, he stared down at the stick. When he finally looked up at Bunny, his eyes were wide with confusion, pleading with him to explain. "I…remember…" he began tentatively. He looked down at the staff. "…Shattering…"

The tool fell from his suddenly clumsy fingers and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. "I…was _cold_…and it…_bothered_ me." He shuddered and hugged himself tighter, trembling violently and drawing his knees up in a little ball.

"Hey, hey, it's okay now," Bunny said quickly, sitting down in the chair next to Jack's bed as Baby Tooth let out a worried mewl and nuzzled Jack's cheek. "It's okay, Frostbite. I ain't gonna let anyone hurt'cha anymore, and ya don' need to worry 'bout your stick."

Jack looked up at him. "My…?" The trembling slowly died, and Jack's gaze, still a little hazy, lowered until finally it rest on his staff. He reached out a pale hand and wrapped his fingers around it.

The wind rustled the bed skirt, and Jack closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of his old friend embracing him once more.

Bunnymund watched, noting how, ever so slowly, Jack's tense posture relaxed and the boy collected himself.

Jack finally opened his eyes, feeling as if everything in the world was right again. Now, where was he? Oh, right, Bunnymund, standing right—

Wait.

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed suddenly, turned abruptly and glaring at Bunny. "It's not a stick!"

Bunny cocked an eyebrow and settled back into his chair, folding his arms casually across his furry chest as he said to Baby Tooth, "_And_, he's back." The little fairy nodded happily and flashed a wide smile, immune to Bunnymund's wry sarcasm.

"What happened?" Jack asked, swinging his long legs out from under the thin blankets and looking around. "Where is everyone? How…? Wait." He raised his right hand and squinted at it, just now noting a very interesting detail. "Where…what…I'm not hurt."

He frowned. "Staff's not broken. I'm not dead. Fingers aren't burned." He looked at Bunny, looking wary. "Did it even happen? Was it…"

He seemed to choke on his words.

"Was it all a dream?"

Bunny shook his head. "Sorry, Mate. No such luck."

Jack looked at him sharply, reading deeper into the intended implications. "Where are the others?"

Then Jack's eyes went wide as the truth hit him.

His fingers tightened on his staff.

"They went after him, didn't they?"

xXx

Sin Cantus again glanced back at the sleigh trailing him. This was good. The Guardians had no clue that they were being led exactly where he wanted to lead them—and not to Pumpkin King's base.

His plan was working so perfectly…well…almost perfectly. He was, of course, short one pawn, but luckily it was a pawn that could be easily replaced.

His mind turned to that original pawn. Ah, Jack Frost would have been _perfect_ for what Sin had in mind…but unfortunately, the Pumpkin King had ruined that particular dream. It had been a thin hope, of course, that Jack would survive…

That was the problem. Sin had _gone_ _over _the plan with his master, in _excruciating_ detail. _Don't_ kill the boy. Hit him where it _hurts_—his powers, his freedom. If the boy _died_, Sin stressed, then the Guardians would seek revenge. If he was just _critically wounded_, then they'd be busy trying to save him, and the Pumpkin King could strike, easy.

That was the reason he gave.

The other reason, of course, was that Sin Cantus needed Jack alive come Halloween. And he needed Pumpkin King dead. He had never actually intended Jack to die _or_ become critically wounded. In his mind, the most likely outcome was that the Pumpkin King would find Jack's staff for him, and Jack would claim it and proceed to destroy Pumpkin King. Then, bada-bing, bada-boom—Jack alive, Pumpkin King dead, and Sin Cantus ready to swoop in and exact diabolical plot.

But _no_.

Sin had miscalculated—overestimated Jack's abilities without his staff and underestimated the toll taken on him by those few days already spent without the relic. Both Pumpkin King _and_ Jack had failed him in the end. Sin had seen Pumpkin King escape, and heard Jack's friends' laments.

"_Is he…? No. No, he can't be. He's immortal. We're all immortal. We can't die."_

He'd seen Jack's body, pale and limp as a corpse. Seen the tears frozen on his cheeks. Seen Tooth's own tears welling in her eyes and heard her desperate, futile words as she came to the same conclusion Sin himself had. He'd seen Bunny paw at the boy, only to be given no response. He'd seen all of their hearts shatter.

He'd left before anyone could notice him, but in all reality he didn't think they would've noticed him had he stayed. They would be too busy mourning the passing of their youngest member.

But Sin could improvise. What kind of villain couldn't? He was doing it right now, leading the vengeful Guardians to his master. With luck, _they'd_ kill Pumpkin King for him, and he could find a sacrifice that was equal to the late winter sprite.

It would take some doing, but he could salvage the pieces.

However, unbeknownst to him, back at the North Pole, the "late winter sprite" wasn't exactly dead. In fact, he was quite conscious…

xXx

Jack leapt right out of bed, ignoring the sting of his back and ache of his side. "Where's my hoodie?" he asked, his voice no longer scared nor vulnerable, but almost frantic.

"Whoa, slow down, ya Gumby. That burn on your back—"

"Where. Is. My. Hoodie."

Bunny wordlessly gestured to where the garment was slung over the bedpost.

"Thank you."

Somehow, Jack didn't sound all that grateful.

"What are ya plannin' on doin'?" Bunny asked skeptically, folding his arms and tapping his foot. "Goin' after them? Are you bloody crazy?"

"I wouldn't say 'crazy'."

Bunny snorted. "Yeah? Well I would. It's too _dangerous_, Mate. You're going to get hurt!"

Jack snatched up his staff. "I'm not a _bab_y, Bunny."

"You barely survived last night."

"I have my staff now," Jack reminded him. "I feel fine; I'm not _helpless._"

Baby Tooth flew up at this, chittering angrily and waving a scolding finger at Jack.

"I'm not!" he insisted.

"Look, Snowball, this ain't a question of how powerful ya are, okay?" Bunnymund said, his voice hard. "This thing hurt you, and he won't hesitate to hurt you again. That devil is _dangerous_. We don' know why he went after you or even how 'e _knew_ about you, and until we figure this out, you're in danger!"

"Me?" Jack demanded. "_I'm_ in danger? It's not just _me_, Bunny! North, Tooth, and Sandy are in just as much danger—no—they're in _more_ danger! I can't—just let them rush into this! They'll get hurt, or, or _killed_ or…"

He trailed off, grasping at straws.

"Look, I know. I'm as worried as you are," Bunny assured him. Jack opened his mouth to argue but Bunny hushed him with a raised paw. "Which is why _I'm_ going to go help them. Alone. Without you."

Jack's eyes flashed with fury. "Oh, so _you_ get to go rush into battle, but _I_ have to stay at _home_?! Here?! Again?! Do you _know_ how long I've been cooped _up_ here?!"

"Two days?" Bunny asked pointedly, not impressed.

"And _three_ nights," Jack corrected, his cheeks slowly but steadily reddening with rage.

"Whoop-de-do."

"I'm _ser_ious!"

Bunny's ears twitched and he squinted at Jack with new interest. Had Jack's voice just broken?

Jack was pacing. "If I stay here, for just—just _one_ more minute—I swear, I'll, I'll…ugh!" He clutched at his snowy hair. "I can't _take_ this, Bunny. This was bad enough when it was impossible to leave—but to willingly _keep_ myself here?! While you all go fight that _thing?!_ No, no, I—I _have_ to go with you." He turned abruptly to the rabbit. "Please_. Please_ take me with you!" His blue eyes were wide with desperation.

It was then that Bunny realized just how right Tooth had been about Jack's nature. For three hundred years, this free spirit had lived by his wits, out in the great outdoors. It was a safe bet that Jack had never slept under a roof in his life—and even if that wasn't true, most certainly not the _same_ roof for any number of _consecutive_ nights. Jack was used to being able to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. His house was a forest. His hearth was a frozen lake. His roof—the boundless sky. This forced house arrest had been, ever so slowly, driving the boy insane.

But…but…

"Snowball, I get what you're sayin'…but…I can't take you with me."

Jack's shoulders drooped and he turned away.

"I mean it," Bunny continued, trying not to be unnerved by Jack's sudden defeated posture. "We 'ave no clue wot we're doin' here and until we do, it's best that you stay here, out of harm's way. And on top o' that, you're wounded and no matter what you say, I can _tell_ you're still weak. You'd be nothin' but a liability."

Jack turned slowly to look at him. "A liability," he repeated, his tone dead.

Bunny nodded. "Exactly." Sensing that Jack was close to being convinced, he pressed on. "Ya need to re_cover_, Mate. Ya see yer hands are healed, yeah? But yer back isn't. And yer side isn't. And ye're barely standing on yer feet as it is."

That was an exaggeration, but Jack didn't argue. He bowed his head, the fight gone out of him completely. "I…I guess…you're right…" he mumbled.

Bunny almost sagged in relief. "_Thank_ you," he said. "Now, I'm gonna go and make sure they're all right. You, stay here, stay out of trouble, and…" He trailed off as Jack turned and slumped back down onto the bed, even going so far as to pull up his hood. "Snowflake?"

Jack hunched his shoulders and refused to turn around.

"Look, Mate, if we really need ya, we'll call ya, okay? I promise, the moment it looks like we need 'elp, North'll be all snow globes and Sandy'll whip somethin' up to let ya know. Okay?"

Jack turned his head slightly, affording Bunny a brief glimpse of the tip of a pale nose and a fringe of white hair poking out from under the blue hood. The boy didn't turn all the way around though. He refused to look Bunnymund face to face.

Bunny sighed. It was obvious that Jack was taking Bunny's refusal personally and was deeply hurt, but Bunny didn't know how to deal with this. He'd just have to leave Jack to cool off…pun unintended. Maybe the boy would calm down and see reason after a while left alone?

"Well, wish me luck. Remember—when we need'ja, we'll call." Without waiting for an answer, Bunny tapped his foot and dove down into the resulting rabbit hole, leaving Jack to figure himself out.

Baby Tooth twittered nervously. When Jack didn't respond, she zipped over, anxiously squeaking.

Jack sat very still, shaggy white hair and soft blue hood casting his eyes in shadow. Seeing his forlorn expression, she flitted over and rubbed up against his cheek, babbling words of comfort.

Jack sniffed and opened his eyes, finding Baby Tooth smiling reassuringly at him.

"Thanks, Baby Tooth," he whispered.

She let out a questioning chirp.

"Naw, I'm okay."

Another chirp.

Jack looked around the room, gaze finally coming to rest on the window. Slowly he straightened, allowing his hood to slide off of his head and his snowy hair to pop back into its usual mussed-up style. His blue eyes narrowed slightly, and Baby Tooth watched apprehensively as something was lit behind their icy depths—a cold fire of resolve, steadily burning brighter.

He moved suddenly into action, swinging himself off of the bed and scooping up his staff. He took a step forward—and was stopped as Baby Tooth flew up, zipping around his head and scolding him angrily. "I know," he insisted, "what Bunny said. But he doesn't understand! They _need_ me, Baby Tooth. I can't leave them to face Pumpkin King alone; this is _my_ fight too."

Baby Tooth's fury dissipated slowly, like mist on a sunny day, and she smiled understandingly. Quickly she dove into his hoodie's pocket, chirping a happy affirmative that she was ready to go.

Jack grinned to himself. He hurried to cross to the window and throw it open. It was time. Time to do something he'd been wanting to do for a very long time.

After only a brief running start, he leapt forward and threw himself out the window.

The wind caught him, swirling happily and greeting him as an old friend. "I'm back!" Jack yelled joyously to the sky, twirling and letting the wind throw him up. Oh my _goodness_, it was good to be back!

Now, where to go?

Just as he had the thought, a twinge made him gasp and pull up short. It was a…a _wrongness_, stealing over his heart.

And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, where the Pumpkin King was, and where he needed to be.

"Wind!" he shouted, unable to help the smile that curved his lips at _finally_ being able to say this again. "Take me _home_!"

There was a rush of force, a whine of power, and Jack forgot the dark feeling from before in the face of this thrill.

With a gleeful shout, Jack rocketed up into the clouds.

* * *

_**AN: So? What do you think? Not to be clichéd, but - -**_

_**What happens next?**_

_**Where is Sin Cantus leading the Guardians?**_

_**What is Pumpkin King's diabolical plans, and where will he strike next?**_

_**Will Jack and Bunnymund reach them in time?**_

_**Will Jack manage to escape Bunnymund BEFORE Bunnymund totally kills him for disobeying a direct order?**_

_**Find out in the next installment of this, the fanfiction with the very long name! Chapter VII (7): 'Too Late'.**_

_**Oooh…not a very happy name. I wonder why?**_

_**Anyway, sorry about that; couldn't resist. Um, oh! A shout out to ALL my reviewers! You don't know how excited I was to log in and find your guys' comments waiting to greet me! Ha, or, as fellow authors, maybe you do! Special thanks to **__I LoVe ChOCoMoNsTeR__**, for being my first reviewer; **__xNereikax__**, who specifically wanted Jack to be burned (was there enough angst for you? Probably not; I'm more of a fluff person); **__Shadowcat Pryde__**, for complimenting my OC villain (I AM rather proud of him, thanks) and my writing (you don't know how ecstatic that made me; I was walking on air for the next hour and a half!); **__scrubslova__**, for catching and allegedly "loving" my Danny Phantom reference (many thanks for that); **__AnaEl92__**, for writing a super-duper-LONG review, honoring me with her first ever comment, and saving me from the lack of line breaks (I am forever in your debt!); and thank you to absolutely everyone else! **__Guest__**, **__Capella Sherlock Holmes__**, **__monkeygirl77__**, **__Maddie__**, **__nightmre13__**, **__EpicDetour9__**, **__Frost and Winter Chills__**, and**__ magiccatprincess__**, for deciding that my fanfiction was worth the time and effort it takes to write me a little note and lift my spirits, because I know from experience that that can really take a lot of effort sometimes—after all, those are precious seconds that can't be taken back. So thank you all, whether or not you were mentioned here (and I did try to put everyone on here; if you weren't, tell me so I can apologize and make up for it!) because you are what makes writing worth it!**_

_**Yay for you!**_


	7. Too Late

_**AN: Sorry for the late post, but I'm afraid that none of my posts are going to be quite as quick as they were that first day. Real life (and its stupid cluttered schedules) are hitting me **_**way**_** harder than I thought they would. So, I am going to post whenever I can, but I probably won't get another "five chapters in one afternoon" again. Sorry.**_

_**On the plus side, this is chapter seven out of ten—three more to go, not including epilogue! Yay! Almost done! This will definitely be done very, very soon (definitely before the month is out, most likely before two weeks is out, hopefully before this week is out, if Lady Luck will grace me with her favor). For now, enjoy "Chapter VII (7): Too Late".**_

* * *

Chapter VII  
Too Late

Slowly, the white brilliance of the snowy landscape under the sleigh melted into leaping waves, and then green countryside. Still the wraith flew on.

"Where is he going?" Tooth asked in concern.

"I do not know," North replied.

Sandy studied the sleigh's built-in globe shrewdly, fingering the route they'd been taking. He ran his finger down the globe, noticing that they'd been moving in a ruler-straight line since catching sight of the shadow. He moved on, trying to guess their destination…

And stopped, eyes widening in surprise. Was it a coincidence?

He waved to get the others' attention, and this time, they thankfully got the memo without him having to jump up and down. He gestured frantically to the globe.

"What is it, Sandy?"

Sandy pointed to the Pole, and then slid his finger down their route. North and Tooth watched as the tiny golden finger finally stopped in northeastern America.

Was it a coincidence that they were heading right toward Burgess, where both Jamie and Jack lived and where the final battle with Pitch had taken place?

xXx

Bunnymund finally saw the sleigh while it was flying over Canada. "Finally!" he grumbled. He raised a paw to wave, when suddenly a dark shadow ran into him. There were matching cries of surprise and pain as both rabbit and wraith were thrown back by the force of the collision.

"Wha…?" Bunny groaned and tried to sit up, blinking the stars from his eyes. Then he saw it—a dark, smoky form, also just sitting up, hissing in pain. They locked eyes.

Its glowing yellow eyes narrowed. "I see," he hissed in a slithering voice that sent shivers down Bunny's spine, "that all is not as it seemed." He looked up at the sleigh, which was descending.

It was obviously an envoy of the Pumpkin King. Bunny rolled to his feet, boomerangs inexplicably already drawn and ready to throw, but the spirit had already moved into action and was several feet away. His lower face split into a white, unnatural leer.

"I am _so _sorry for your loss," he hissed in what sounded annoyingly like amusement. With a final jaunty wave, he melted into the shadows of the night.

Before Bunny could make any sense of his words, there was a crash behind him that sent the whole earth shuddering. Bunnymund knew what it was, and, sure enough, he turned to see the sleigh come to a shuddering halt a few yards away.

"Bunny!" Tooth cried, leaping out of the sleigh and buzzing over. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where's the wraith? How are you here? How did you find us? Why are you here? Where's Jack? Is he okay?"

She fired off the questions like gunshots, as soon as they came to mind, talking almost as fast as her wings buzzed.

"Whoa, whoa, Tooth, slow down," Bunny chuckled. "One question at a time!"

"Why are you here?" Tooth repeated. "Where's Jack?"

Technically two questions, but Bunny let it slide. "It's okay, Tooth—_'e's_ okay."

"Bunny!" North interrupted, waving from the sleigh. "How are you? How did you find us? Where's Jack?"

More questions. Where were they all coming from?

"Look, Mate, we don't 'ave _time_ for this. Where's the Pumpkin King?"

"We were following the wraith," Tooth replied, looking around nervously. The buzz of her wings was rising higher and higher in pitch as her anxiety increased and her wings flapped faster. "It's dark here. Too dark. Does anyone else think it's too dark?"

Bunny saw movement in the sleigh and turned to see Sandy waving. The little golden man gestured to the globe.

"Ah, yes. Sandy believes that wraith was going to Burgess," North explained.

"Burgess," Bunny muttered. "Alright then. What are we waiting for?"

"Took words right out of my mouth!" North agreed. "Come on slowpokes; into sleigh!"

Tooth flitted over, still babbling worriedly, but Bunny refused to move. "Oh no, Mate, there is no way ye're gettin' me into that thing again," he replied. "No way, no 'ow. I'll meet ya in Burgess." He tapped his foot and dove into a rabbit hole before North could do anything to him.

North rolled his eyes and grinned at Sandman and Tooth. "He is big baby, no?" He flicked the reigns and laughed as the sleigh was pulled up into the sky.

Sandy waved to get North's attention and conjured a little globe of sand. He shook it and threw it, and mimed something exploding—complete with silent but melodramatically mouthed sound effects.

"Good idea, Sandy!" North approved, already digging into his thick coat. "Snow globe!"

xXx

"Bunny, bunny! Hop-hop-hop!"

Jamie laughed as little Sophie, happily clad in a Rabbit costume, bounced around him, waving her mittened hands and singing happily. "Hop-hop-hop!"

"Hey, slow down!" he chuckled. "I need to finish _my_ costume, okay?"

Sophie giggled and ran out of the room. "Mama, mama! Look, look, look!"

Jamie smiled as he shut the door behind her. It was almost time to go, and he wasn't _quite_ done with his outfit yet.

He spared a brief glance out the window as he made his way to his closet. The sun was beginning to set—the days were getting shorter already as winter approached—but the person Jamie longed to see still had yet to arrive. Not even a hint of frost touched his window; no snow to be seen at all, in fact. And there was no white-haired, blue eyed teenager swooping through the clouds or stopping by to visit. The sky remained clear.

Jamie sighed and turned away from the window. _He'll be here,_ Jamie told himself. _He said he would be, and he will be._

He certainly hoped Jack would come—Jamie had a surprise for him. He knew Jack would find this _really_ cool.

He picked up the stick he'd found to complete his costume, exited his room, and crossed the hall to the bathroom he shared with his sister. After all, he needed a mirror, and his room didn't have one.

He studied himself. He'd found the sweatshirt/hoodie in a yard sale, and it was suitably worn to serve its purpose. He'd torn the cuffs off some brown pants and tied them off with yarn, and gotten his mom to help him use special paint to turn his brown hair stark white—though it was, admittedly, a messy job. He'd found a fairly adequate stick with a hint of a crook on the end, and decided it would serve his purpose, and a little help—and makeup—from his mom had made his face look paler. The only thing he couldn't change were his eyes, and that didn't bother him _too_ much.

All in all, he had a satisfactory Jack Frost Halloween costume.

His mother had wanted to go off in a completely different direction. She'd insisted that Jack Frost was the 'Prince of Winter', and that Jamie would need a cape and a crown and lots of silver snowflakes. Jamie, who had, after all, _met _the real Jack Frost, had been _completely_ against that. Finally his mother had given in—though she made a point of commenting that Jamie looked very much like an albino hobo. She especially wasn't happy about his bare feet.

"Jamie!"

There she was now.

"Jamie? Are you ready?"

_Yes_! It was time!

"Coming, Mom!" Jamie called happily, grabbing his stick and bursting from the bathroom.

xXx

The Pumpkin King watched with predatory glee as the school parking lot filled with people. The school was putting on a "Halloween Jamboree" for the children and their families—an event that provided a potluck dinner and some games.

There was a ripple in the air next to the pumpkin-headed spirit, and his most loyal servant appeared next to him.

"Cantus," Pumpkin King greeted him without looking away from the festivities below. "I trust your mission went well?"

Sin shivered happily. "Yes, Oh Great One. I have led the Guardians far away. I expect they are somewhere off the coast of Italy about now."

The Pumpkin King couldn't help a devious smirk. "You have done well, my vassal." He didn't notice how his "vassal" flinched at the title. "Soon enough, our time shall come. Thank you for your services."

Sin stared at the Pumpkin King. 'Thank you'? Had his master just…?

Never in his whole time serving the Pumpkin King had his master uttered anything akin to thanks.

Sin's shock hardened into disgust and he turned away. This was just another sign—another indication that the Pumpkin King's time had indeed come. The old fool was going soft in his old age. It was time a new King stepped up—not a Pumpkin King, but a Shadow King.

_Shadow King_.

Sin smirked to himself.

He rather liked the sound of that.

xXx

North, Tooth, and Sandy disembarked from the sleigh just as Bunny emerged from a hole in the ground a couple yards away. They were on a hill that provided an excellent view of Burgess in one direction and forest in the other.

"Fancy seein' you 'ere," Bunny greeted them.

"Bunny!" Toothiana called with a smile. "You're here!"

All four began to move toward each other—and stopped, as a sudden shadow swept over the land. They all shuddered and looked around in unease.

It passed as suddenly as it came.

"What was that?" North asked, drawing his swords. An image of a grinning pumpkin appeared above Sandman's head, and his friends all nodded.

"He's here," Bunny agreed.

"Then let us go!" North exclaimed, brandishing his swords savagely. "There are children to save and ghost to give container of butt-kick, yes?"

Bunny chuckled. "I couldn't 'ave said it better meself." He met each of his friends' eyes. "We ready?"

Tooth nodded, lifting higher into the air. What looked alarmingly like a bazooka made out of sand appeared in Sandy's hands and he grinned in affirmation.

"All right then." Bunny turned to face Burgess. "For Frostbite!" he called, launching himself down the slope of the hill.

"And for the children!" Tooth cried, zipping after.

"For the world!" North agreed, breaking into a run.

An explosion of fireworks and a victory flag appeared above Sandy's head as he flew after them. _For victory!_

xXx

The party was in full swing. Everyone who was going to arrive had done so. The parking lot was jam-packed, brightly lit, and full of laughter.

The school was on the outskirts of town—on the opposite side, in fact, than the hill the Guardians had just run dramatically down. The large faculty parking lot—the one being used—was behind the school, and that parking lot was partially bordered by forested hills.

The Pumpkin King's supernatural army lined these hills now, staying just within the safety of the trees. The Master of Halloween could _feel_ their lust—their desire to storm the parking lot. He could feel their thirst.

Like the Guardians, the Pumpkin King's army needed the belief of children to become strong.

Unlike the Guardians, it was fear that fueled these specters…fear…and despair.

The Pumpkin King didn't know exactly what he was doing—he'd gotten the details from Sin, and he trusted that Sin knew what he was doing—but the gist was clear: to take back Halloween, he needed the children. He needed their fear, and, most importantly, he needed everything that made them children—innocence, light, selflessness, determination, faith, imagination.

There was a ritual, Sin said. A ritual that could give the Pumpkin King all the power he lusted for. He just needed the children. Also, afterward, they would make great hostages to force the Guardians into surrender.

He slowly raised a bony hand and sensed the whole army still, looking to him.

The tension rose to a fever pitch.

And then, to the exhilaration of all watching, the hand came down.

xXx

Jamie was laughing with his friends. They'd met up almost immediately, and after the first few minutes of greetings and catching up ("Whoa, cool, you're Jack Frost!" and "Oh, hey Pippa; _there_ you are!" and "Where did you get the Iron Man costume; that is _sick!_") they'd wandered off to peruse the games. Jamie was just telling them about how Jack had told them that he would come that night, when a sudden chill passed through the whole parking lot.

And then every single light went out, plunging the whole lot into darkness.

Jamie gasped and reached out instinctively for something to hold onto. All around him, he heard screams and cries and parents and children calling out for each other. "Pippa?" he called uncertainly. "Claude? Caleb? Cupcake? Hello? What's—"

He broke off with a gasp as he felt something cold wrap around him, pinning his arms to his sides. At the same time, he heard a high-pitched shriek that was most definitely Pippa. "Pippa!" he cried again. "Somebody help! He—"

A cold hand smothered his cries and he felt his stomach drop as he was whisked away.

xXx

The lights came back on, leaving those remaining blinking in the sudden brilliance.

A sudden cry broke the silence.

"Pippa?! Pippa, where are you?!"

Gradually the adults all seemed to realize that there were no children left in the parking lot at all.

"Caleb?"

"Thomas, where are you?!"

"Someone help!"

"Jamie! Sophie!"

"Jessica!"

"Where are my children?!"

"Somebody call 911!"

The cries grew ever louder, mixing together to form one heart-wrenching chorus of panic and fear. Sin Cantus laughed silently to himself as he disappeared through his master's portal. Ah, the terror, the despair, the utter anguish.

It was delicious.

xXx

The shadows lifted suddenly, taking the chill and nausea with them and dumping Jamie Bennett unceremoniously to the ground. He lay for a moment, gasping for breath, before finally pushing himself up onto hands and knees.

He could hear others all around him—children groaning, sniffling, calling for their parents. He looked up, blinking.

They were in the forest. He was surrounded by kids from the party, though none of his friends were near him.

"Guys?" he called, getting shakily to his feet. Most of the kids were still on the ground—even the big kids. "Pippa? Cupcake? Claude?"

Then a thought struck him. "Sophie? Sophie, are you here?"

An answering cry had him whirling around, just in time for his little sister to slam into him, sobbing and clutching his shirt. Her rabbit ears were askew and her tears were smearing the whiskers painted on her cheeks.

"Oh, shh, shh, it's okay." Jamie got down on his knees and hugged the little girl close. "It's going to be okay, Soph."

A low chuckle made Jamie's heart leap with alarm, and he turned, instinctively shielding his little sister from the source of the sinister sound.

Slowly, around the gaggle of children, horrible, dark creatures emerged from the shadows, until the whole group was surrounded by monsters. And finally, last of all, a tall, emaciated figure stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. A gruesome leer stretched across his pumpkin face.

"Okay?" the creature asked with amusement. "Everything is certainly not going to be okay. I don't believe you understand what's happening to you, young boy."

Jamie slowly got to his feet, still keeping his sister behind him. "I understand that you're evil," Jamie said, forcing himself to stand up to this villain though his heart quailed. "And that you won't succeed."

"And what is it you think I'm _doing_, pray tell?" the monster asked, his smile widening.

"I don't know," Jamie admitted. "But whatever it is—the Guardians will stop you!"

"Yeah!" a voice a little to Jamie's left shouted, and he looked to see Pippa glaring at the monster, looking menacing despite her fairy princess costume.

"You'll see!" another voice behind him snarled, and he turned to see Cupcake standing tall, the prop for her cowgirl's outfit—a lasso—held threateningly in her hand as if she actually knew how to use it.

One by one his friends stood, and when all were up and standing strong, Jamie turned again to face the skeletal bad guy. "They're coming right now," Jamie said with certainty. "I can feel it."

The villain's grin only widened. "Really? Well, I should just run and hide then, shouldn't I…?" he took a confident step forward and leaned down, squinting as if studying Jamie's costume. "And yet, your costume—lovely idea, by the way, impersonating Jack Frost—seems to poke and prod at some _memory_ in the back of my mind…what was it?" The fiend began to pace. "I can't seem to…oh yes." It turned to face Jamie, suddenly smirking triumphantly. "It seems to me that just last night, I paid a little visit to Jack Frost."

'A little visit'? Jamie felt a twinge of fear. With this beast, 'a little visit' couldn't be anything good…especially not when he was practically radiating cold smugness.

"Yes…ah, I can _still_ hear his scream…music to the ears, if I do say so myself…trust me, child, Jack Frost will not be coming to save you." The pumpkin-headed spirit leaned down, until his eyes were at level with Jamie's and the boy could smell his breath (it smelled of squash and campfire smoke). "Just as no one was there to save _him._"

Slowly, the message became clear to Jamie's unwilling mind.

No.

A chill stole over his heart.

_No._

He looked around frantically, but still, no frost, no snow, and no winter sprite.

Jack had promised to be here Halloween Night, and yet he still wasn't here…

Proof that this…this _devil_ was telling the truth.

"No," Jamie breathed, still trying to deny it. "No. No, he can't be…"

The pumpkin-headed spirit grinned. "He can't be what? …Dead? Oh yes, my boy, I'm afraid he can." He straightened up, practically radiating smug triumph. "I'm afraid that he absolutely can."

Was it just Jamie, or were all of the spirits surrounding him growing taller, larger, _darker?_

"Yes…" the fiend murmured. "Yes…this is perfect. Be _afraid_, child. Let your terror take ahold of you." His voice was soft, compelling, and very, very creepy. "Let it _consume you_."

"Who…"

Jamie's voice came out a squeak. He swallowed and tried again.

"Who are you?"

That devilish leer only widened.

"I, my dear boy, am the Pumpkin King."

xXx

Jack felt it.

He was over Canada, nearing the US border, when the emptiness in his heart almost stopped him short. He staggered midflight, dropping a few feet and startling Baby Tooth.

"No, no, it's okay," he assured her. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't. He'd felt it—he could still feel it. A horrible sense of loss.

_Someone had stopped believing in him._

Then suddenly the feeling passed, though it still lingered, waiting to strike again. As if the belief was flickering, being attacked.

He could almost feel the children's desperate longing to keep believing, to feed the little candle that was their belief—but he could also feel the nagging despair that slowly ate away at the little flames.

Slowly, he could feel the lights going out.

"No," he gasped, pushing himself harder. "No, no, no!"

Still he flew, straight as an arrow and destination set. He would not let this happen. He would not let the Pumpkin King get away this this. He soared through the night, watching as lights came on in the towns below him.

He crossed into America.

He was almost there.

But as a flame went completely out and his flight once again faltered, he feared he was too late to save both himself and the children he loved.

* * *

_**AN: Ooooh, cliffhanger ending! Apologies for that; I know, with the uncertain schedule, cliffhangers aren't the nicest of presents…but it was so fun to write! :)**_

_**Next chapter will be called 'Keep Calm and Believe'. Sounds happier than 'Too Late', eh? Remember, though—first impressions can be **_**deceiving**_**.**_

_**So, **__Embersky__**, how was your first viewing of Rise of the Guardians? Congrats! I'm flattered that you're able to stand putting up with my amateur fanfiction after watching something so amazing. Isn't it just about the most perfect movie ever?**__I LoVe ChOCoMoNsTeR__**, I'm glad you approve! I figured that'd be about the epitome of Jack ICness—disobeying Bunny. Bunny ain't gonna be too happy about that. And **__MasterIcePhoenix__**, not only do I love your username, but I'm glad you're so into this story! :D **__Night-Fury1__**, I'm kind of scared by your insistence that North deserves everything he's got. XD I love that, but what do you have against him, haha? Now I'm curious!**_

_**And…oh no…**__sohrem666__**, you absolutely MUST explain to me! WHERE IS THE PLOT HOLE?! D: I'm scared just thinking about it. Please, tell me; if there is one, I need to fix it, ASAP!**_

_**Thanks for tuning in, guys (and girls, if 'guys' offends you). 'Til next time! **_


	8. Keep Calm and Believe

_**AN: Heyo, everybody! Haha, I'm back! I feel like it's been forever…oh, what? Only a day?**_** W****ell**_** then…**_

_**Anywho, I'll let you get on to the story (since I've seen from the reviews that you're rather anxious to remedy that last cliffhanger) and do the personalized responses afterwards, aye? Enjoy!**_

* * *

**The Time Jack Lost His Stick  
**By: C.L.

Chapter VIII  
Keep Calm and Believe

The Pumpkin King could sense the terror radiating from this group of kids. Sin Cantus had been right—kidnapping these children had _truly_ been a marvelous idea. He could _feel_ himself growing stronger—the strength flowing into his limbs, warming his heart…it was incredible!

He wanted to bask in this newfound glory—but there was work to do.

"Sin!" the Pumpkin King barked, turning abruptly to his second-in-command. "Are any of these good enough for our needs?"

The wraith studied the group shrewdly. "I am uncertain, sir…many children seem almost suitable, and yet…oh dear. So many are not exactly as we had hoped. I see innocence…imagination…determination…light…faith…ev en selflessness. But not all in one place. Not all in one package. Wait…no, no, here he is." Sin loomed over Jamie, grinning as he picked out each one of the attributes. "Very selfless, yes, amazing. The perfect balance of youthful innocence and determination, and a spark of imagination to light the fire." Sin peered closer. "He is by far the brightest light…and even in the face of your tricks, his faith remains only shaken—by no means toppled. Very stubborn indeed."

"So?" Pumpkin King asked. "Is he suitable?"

Sin looked back at his master and grinned. "I've seen better…but he'll do." He reached out a hand, ready to grab Jamie by the arm. Sophie whimpered and Jamie drew back, eyeing the shadow distrustfully.

Suddenly, a burst of golden light lit the forest, and a familiar voice shouted, "Get ye're stinkin' hands off o' that boy!"

A boomerang flew over Jamie's head and thumped the wraith right upside the head, knocking him away from the boy. Jamie whirled around, hope lighting in his heart like a bonfire.

The Easter Bunny stepped from the shelter of the trees. All around him, his comrades appeared—Sandman, Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy—

The hope dimmed.

Jack Frost wasn't among the rescue party.

Could what the Pumpkin King had said be true?

"Bunny!" Sophie squealed, pointing happily. "Hop-hop-hop!"

E. Aster Bunnymund smirked. "Aw. Did we interrupt somethin'?"

Several children shook their heads mutely. A couple were staring, wide-eyed, at the gigantic mammal. Others clearly had no clue what was going on—nonbelievers.

"You!" the Pumpkin King bellowed. "What are _you_ doing here?!"

Nicholas St. North laughed—a booming, tree-rattling sound. "Ha _ha,_ Pumpkin King—you did not expect us?"

"You hurt Jack," Toothiana snarled, wings buzzing faster as her purple eyes narrowed dangerously. Jamie's heart dropped at the words. "And we protect our own."

Sandman made an all-encompassing gesture to the children and conjured an old-fashioned shield and sword, brandishing both. _And we're here to save the children_, the message clearly stated.

The Guardians lunged forward

The spectral army rose to meet them.

Jamie looked around desperately, tightly clutching his sister's hand. Darkness had abruptly fallen over their patch of woods, as ghosts and ghouls sparred with the protectors of childhood. Jamie could hear the battle taking place all around him, but such was the flitting, shadowy nature of the Pumpkin King's army that he couldn't see a thing through the uncertain flickering of darkness.

Sophie was sobbing again, burying her face in Jamie's shirt. "I want Mama…I want Mama…" she whimpered.

"Shh, shh, it's going to be okay," Jamie murmured comfortingly, rubbing her back and holding her close as he cast around desperately for a way to safety. As a clawed hand narrowly missed taking out his eye, he realized that where they were now wasn't the safest place to be.

"Jamie!"

Jamie turned to see Pippa, Cupcake, Claude, and the rest of his friends searching the battlefield, dodging angry shadows and blinking in the dim light. "Guys!" he called. "Over here!"

He could see a few of them sigh in relief. "Jamie, what's going on?!" Pippa asked desperately, looking around nervously as they all gathered around him. "Where's Jack?"

Jamie's heart plunged at the mention of his friend's name. "I…I don't know…" he admitted. "But—I _know_ he's still out there, okay? He's coming…I _know_ he is…and he's going to come. He's always come, remember?"

Pippa looked uncertain. "I don't know, Jamie."

Jamie stared at her in horror. "You mean…you don't believe?" he gasped.

Pippa shuffled her feet, looking anywhere except her friend's face. "I…I don't think he's coming, Jamie," she whispered unwillingly. "If he hasn't come yet…"

She looked up, meeting Jamie's eyes hopefully, and looked away as if stung. His expression was enough to make her _extremely_ guilty…but it didn't change what she thought she knew in her heart.

That, even if Jack had been real, he was no longer there. He wouldn't come.

xXx

Jack had to land.

It was more of a crash, though, and he lay where he'd collapsed, shivering. The emptiness was growing—it was _swallowing_ him. Fear clutched as his insides: fear for the children—for what could cause such a massive epidemic of unbelief?—and fear for himself. What would happen to him if _everyone _gave up on him? Now that he'd tasted belief…now that he _needed_ belief…he literally couldn't survive without it.

_No,_ he thought, struggling to his feet. The wind helped him stay upright, though he still had to lean heavily on his staff. _No, they're strong. They'll keep believing in me. They won't give up on me…_

And it worked both ways.

Though he could feel their lights going out, one by one, he didn't lose faith. _He_ believed in _them._

_I know you wouldn't do that to me_, he thought, sending out a silent message._ You know I'm here. I'm coming. Don't give up on me. Don't write me off just yet._

"Wind!" he called again, though his voice was a lot more strained. The gale whirled around him, murmuring in concern. It knew something was wrong with him. It didn't want to fly him into battle. It wanted to protect him.

"Take me…" he whispered hoarsely. "Take me…"

Another light went out.

"Gah!"

Jack's knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping. He could feel the emptiness swelling. Maybe losing one or two believers wasn't so bad when you were the Easter Bunny and had a fan base that was a couple billion strong, but Jack could count his believers on his fingers alone, and each one leaving him dealt a horrible blow.

Another light went out.

"No," Jack mumbled weakly, but it was almost too late. He could see his vision blurring, and feel the gentle fog enshrouding him. His breathing hitched in his throat.

Something soft and warm nudged his cheek.

"Baby Tooth…" Jack breathed, his words slurred and faint. "Baby…"

Another light went out. He went limp, the only movement the labored rise and fall of his chest.

Only one light left.

xXx

"No," Jamie gasped, shaking his head in denial. "Not you…Pippa…" He looked each of his friends in the eye, and they all looked away. "You too? All of you?"

Claude sniffed. "Dude, I'm sorry, but…he's not coming."

"But can't you see them? All around us?!" Jamie demanded, gesturing to the battle. "The _Guardians_ are here! That means that what happened last Easter was real! And if that's real, _Jack Frost_ is real. You can't just write that off!"

Cupcake's head drooped. "That's the point," she muttered darkly.

Jamie was taken aback. "What?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "They're here, but he isn't." She shook her head. "He may have been here on Easter, Jamie…but he's not anymore. The Pumpkin King was telling the truth."

"No!" Jamie snapped, and the ferocity in his voice startled all of him friends out of their depression. They looked at him in surprise.

"No!" Jamie repeated. "I won't believe that, and you shouldn't either! Jack Frost was real, and Jack Frost _is_ real! He's our _friend!_ He wouldn't give up on us, and we can't give up on him!"

"But how do you _know?_" Pippa whined.

"He's coming," Jamie insisted. "Can't you feel it? The light in your heart? You can't let it go out! You can't!"

They all exchanged looks.

"Please!" Jamie pleaded. "Just try to believe—try to remember! Remember how he flew around and played tricks all the time?"

Pippa blinked at Jamie for a moment, before suddenly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Remember how he loved snowball fights, and could make anything fun?"

Claude, after an uncertain look at his brother, followed Pippa's example and closed his eyes. Caleb, his twin, followed suit.

"Remember how when we were in danger, he'd suddenly become all serious and fight with everything he had, just to keep us safe?"

Cupcake closed her eyes, silently mouthing words to herself and unconsciously tightening her grip on her lasso.

"Remember how happy he was all the time? And how much he loved just being with us, even if we weren't playing? Remember when he told us about how he'd been alone for _three hundred years_? Remember when he told us how _good_ it felt to be believed in?"

Monty adjusted his huge glasses and closed his eyes. Jamie took a moment to look at them all, eyes tightly shut, hands clenched, obviously trying very hard to remember—and to believe again.

Finally, he said very softly: "Remember his laugh? Remember how it was always loud and carefree and excited?"

And, even softer: "Don't you want to hear it again?"

xXx

An electric shock jolted him back into full consciousness. Jack sat up with a gasp, eyes wide and wild, hands clutching instinctively at his staff.

What…? Where…?

Suddenly, he realized something.

The emptiness.

It was gone.

Every single light was back, and burning brighter than ever. Every single little flame had been relit.

Every single one of his little fan club believed in him again.

Jack leapt to his feet. "They believe!" he shouted happily, spinning around and grinning at a very startled Baby Tooth. "They believe again!"

The sudden shock was making him giddy with excitement. "Baby Tooth, they _believe!_" He laughed with elation—the very same loud, carefree, excited laugh Jamie had remembered aloud only moments before. "_Yes!"_

And then he remembered what he had been doing before he'd collapsed.

"Baby Tooth, in my pocket!" he ordered. As soon as she was secure, he shouted to the wind, "Take me home! Take me to the children!"

The wind grabbed him, twirled him around in happiness, and threw him into the air. Jack let out a whoop of pure joy and spun through the clouds.

He was going to make it.

xXx

North lunged, narrowly intercepting a shadow's attempt to claw a child.

"This is not working!" he shouted.

"No kiddin', Mate!" he heard Bunny call, though he could not see him.

"I can't protect _everyone!_" Tooth wailed, somewhere out of sight.

A burst of gold flickered, signaling Sandy's presence somewhere in the dark mess.

A sinister, amused voice chuckled. "Overwhelming isn't it?"

Suddenly, the darkness vanished, gathering at one end of the field. North looked around, blinking in the sudden light, to see that he, the rest of the Guardians, and the children were more or less grouped together—and the entire shadow pack was swirling a few yards away. It was like two armies facing off—one of children, and one of evil specters.

"How are you holding up?" the Pumpkin King asked in mocking concern. "Finding it a little challenging to stay alive, protect the children, and defeat me all at the same time? How sad." Somehow, he didn't sound quite as sympathetic as his words might have otherwise made him out to be.

"Get behind me, little ones," Toothiana ordered some small children, protectively shielding them. "I won't let him hurt you."

"Oh? You won't? Funny how I'm not _asking_ your _permission_," the Pumpkin King spat the words. "And _just_ to show you I can—minions!"

The pumpkin-headed fiend raised his arms, rallying his spirits, and then pointed one skeletal finger at a smaller group of kids off to the side—Jamie and his friends.

"Attack."

None of the Guardians were near the group. North watched in horror as the pack of specters lunged, knowing that neither he nor any of his allies could reach the kids in time.

xXx

Jamie saw the Pumpkin King point, and knew what was happening. He could feel his friends, all around him, trembling. He knew he had to run. He knew that he had to take his sister and friends and flee. But he was frozen with fear. He was shaking as hard as those around him.

The shadows raced forward. Jamie was aware of his shivering sister clutching his pant leg, and of Pippa's shrill shriek. It was so quick—almost too quick to register.

Sophie cried out her brother's name.

The specters lunged

Jamie dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around his sister, hugging her close, shielding her from the shadows.

He tensed, waiting for the darkness to strike.

xXx

There was a flash of cerulean light as the mass struck, and then Jamie and his friends were masked from the view of the Guardians, enshrouded in a roiling, billowing mass of smoky darkness.

"Kids!" Bunnymund yelled in distress. Toothiana wailed, and several children screamed. Pippa's shriek seemed to ring in everyone's ears, even after it had abruptly cut off.

"No…" North gasped. No. It couldn't be…Jamie…his sister…his friends…all gone?

A burst of azure flickered within the mass of shadows. The electric blue flashed—brief and bright like lightning.

_No_, North thought suddenly.

Not electric blue.

_Icy _blue.

The cold sapphire light sputtered and burst erratically, almost as if…resisting the darkness.

xXx

The blow that Jamie expected didn't come. Instead, Pippa stopped screaming and inhaled sharply.

Jamie flinched, but still no pain came. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

All around him, specters writhed and flailed, obviously trying to go in for the kill. But blinding blue light surged like lightning, driving the creatures of the night back. Jamie couldn't see exactly _what_ was protecting him and his friends—it was swift and agile, flitting through the cloud, a darker blur against a wall of shadows. Wind whirled around Jamie and his friends, separating them from the smoky army and helping the mystery figure protect them.

A dark claw lunged.

A brief shadow flickered at the edge of Jamie's vision, and the claw was suddenly blocked by a burst of light.

A ghost howled and dove at Sophie.

Before Jamie could react, the dark figure was between them and the attacker, ready with another flash of blue.

It was like whoever it was, was everywhere at once.

Then a familiar voice shouted, "Wind! Now!" and Jamie felt his heart soar.

The gale protecting him shoved outward, and the no-longer-mysterious savior let loose with a final, especially bright blaze of cerulean light. Jamie buried his face in his sister's hair and hugged her close, protecting both of them from being blinded or torn away.

Gasps echoed all around him, and he looked up, knowing exactly what he would see.

The marauding shadows had been thrown away, scattered, and the being who had saved him and his friends—who had fought off the darkness—hovered in front of Jamie, between the group and the Pumpkin King. He was panting, arms splayed in a protective stance. His hoodie was torn and smudged and his hair was even more mussed than usual, sticking up in all directions. His back was to Jamie, but Jamie recognized him.

xXx

Bunnymund couldn't believe his eyes.

Hovering in front of Jamie, protectively shielding the children, was Jack Frost—the very winter sprite Bunny had specifically ordered to stay at the workshop. The boy was breathing heavily, and looked slightly worse for wear, but his icy blue eyes were narrowed and centered on the Pumpkin King.

It took a moment for the full meaning of what had just happened to settle in.

Meaning #1: Jamie and his friends were safe.

Meaning #2: Jack had arrived.

Meaning #3: There was hope yet.

Meaning #4: Jack had completely disobeyed Bunny's orders.

"Jack!" Tooth cried happily. "You're alright! You're here!"

"You little—!" Bunny interrupted furiously. "I _told_ you to stay at the Pole!"

Everyone turned to look at Bunny, all wearing identical expressions of disbelief—even the villains.

"Right, sorry," Bunny muttered, anger evaporating as he realized how ridiculous that had been. Jack had just saved the children's lives. Now probably wasn't the time for scolding.

The Pumpkin King's face was going red with rage—something that shouldn't have been possible, given the nature of his head. "Why you little—!" he howled wrathfully, mimicking Bunny with significantly more passion.

His wrath was destined only to increase. With a sweep of his staff Jack erected a wall of ice around him and his charges, shielding them from harm, and then leapt over the barrier and tackled Pumpkin King to the ground.

He was up in the air again before Pumpkin King had time to react. He hovered over everyone's heads.

"What're ya waiting for!" he shouted to his friends with a triumphant grin. "It's just a buncha _ghosts!_"

Then he flipped around and dove headfirst into the fray, ice already sparkling on the end of his staff.

Bunny was the first to get over his shock. "Well, you heard 'im!" he yelled. "Tooth, get the rest of the kids behind the wall! North, Sandy—let's have at it!" With a savage battle cry, he leapt into the fray, followed closely by his comrades.

xXx

Pumpkin King groaned and sat up dazedly, blinking the stars from his eyes only to be greeted with a truly horrifying sight: the Guardians, all together, ganging up against his army. _His_ army!

He watched, fury rising as Tooth ushered the last child behind the protective wall and then rushed into battle, wings already blurring and ready to slice and dice. With Jack helping and no more children to worry about protecting, the Guardians were completely dominating. It was as if the boy was a whirlwind, spinning and dancing across the battlefield. With every sweep and flick of his staff he sent snow eddying around the glade, and with every light, quick step of his feet he spread frost across the ground. Everything he touched, either with his astonishingly whole staff or pale hand, froze over. Winter was finally coming, and it was arriving with a vengeance.

How fair was that?! Now, instead of the previous _four_ against a few score, along with the added difficulty of protecting young children, it _five _to a few score. Without any distractions! It was _completely_ unfair. The Guardians actually had a fighting chance of surviving and defeating Pumpkin King!

And it was _all Jack's fault._

With a furious wail, the Pumpkin King summoned two blazing, crackling fireballs in his hands and launched himself into the battle, intent on one thing, and one thing only—revenge on the snowy-haired boy currently flitting through the mayhem, snowflakes swirling in his wake.

xXx

Jamie saw the Pumpkin King rise, summon the fire, and lunge. He saw the Pumpkin King's target.

"No!" he shouted, banging on the ice that kept him from running out onto the battlefield. "Jack!"

Jack didn't hear him.

xXx

North heard Jamie and registered the terror in the young boy's voice. Quickly the large Russian whirled, casting about for the young Guardian.

He saw the danger immediately—the tall, devilish shadow, fire burning bright, darting towards the spirit, who had his back to the Pumpkin King and was caught up in a battle against a particularly large and annoying banshee.

He was too far away to help the boy. "Jack!" he bellowed, willing the boy to hear and understand. "Behind you!"

Jack stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. Then, to North's relief, understanding dawned clear in his eyes and he whirled around—just in time to let out a startled yelp at the sight of the fire and duck out of the way quickly, leaving the banshee in her master's line of attack.

The Pumpkin King ignored the horrified cries of the now-burning banshee, his former minion, instead lunging again at Jack, who again dodged the attack, trying to stay as far away as he could from the crackling fire.

"No!" North gasped. A demon jumped at him but he hardly gave it any mind, running it through with his sword and lunging through the mass of fighting, trying to get to Jack in time.

Just as the Pumpkin King lunged again, he found his hands batted away by the flats of North's swords. Shocked, the Pumpkin King stumbled back, fire spluttering out as he realized that his view of Jack had been obstructed by a very big, very angry Russian Santa Claus.

"Hands. Off. Family," North growled, crouching aggressively, swords raised in anticipation.

Behind him, Jack gasped softly. _Family…?_

Despite the battle raging around him, he couldn't help flashing back to when North had taken his staff. He'd been so angry, so fierce, so undeniably aggressive, and Jack had seriously thought he was going to kill him. But then, a mere two days later, Jack had had total faith that North would show up and rescue him…and North _had_ shown up and rescued him. He'd been there for him.

"_This is how you see me, no? Big, intimidating…but if you get to know me a little better—well, go on."_

Jack remembered one of his first conversations with North. North was _jolly,_ North was _mysterious_, North was _fearless,_ North was…_caring._

And Jack was his…_family_.

The Pumpkin King shouted in rage at the Cossack. "Get out of my way, old man!"

In reply, North let out a furious battle cry and charged, brandishing his swords. The Pumpkin King screamed his defiance and met him halfway, fire blazing.

Jack watched wide-eyed as North went head to head with the pumpkin-headed flamethrower, fire blazing around their grappling forms. North's blue eyes were hard and fierce, narrowed menacingly, and Jack thought he looked invincible.

North, meanwhile, was hardly aware of anything around him except the villain before him. All he could think about was making this monster pay for what he'd done to Jack—for burning him, for making him scream, for evoking such fear in blue eyes that were usually filled with playful mischief and laughter. How _dare_ this spirit even _try _to lay a finger on Jack?!

Pumpkin King was rapidly realizing that he had made something of a mistake in challenging the burly Russian. Before he was Santa Claus, Guardian of Wonder, he'd been Nicholas St. North—full-time adventurer. And he was quite handy with his swords.

But swords—swords couldn't block a fireball.

Pumpkin King felt a rush of satisfaction as he threw a sphere of flame at the blue-eyed Guardian and knew immediately that the attack would land. There was no way two metal sticks would be able to block that.

North seemed to realize it, too, but he didn't try to dodge. Jack was still behind him—moving would leave the boy right in the line of fire. And North would rather get burned than allow a single spark to get anywhere near Jack.

Jack's dazed half-thoughts concerning North and family were brought to a grinding head as he realized what was about to happen. "No, North!" he shouted, leaping into the air.

A wave of his staff was all it took to summon the wind and block the fireball. It was too big to stop completely, but he managed to send it in another direction, barreling across the battlefield. Jack had barely a moment to hope that it wouldn't hit any of his friends (read: family) before the Pumpkin King was on him.

Jack ducked and weaved, each time just barely avoiding the blazing, skeletal hands. He was just beginning to think that maybe intervening hadn't been the best idea—when he saw North, out of the corner of his eyes, beginning to charge.

_No._ There was no way Jack was going to let North kill himself to protect Jack. That wasn't how things worked around here!

"Stop!" Jack shouted angrily, coming to a grinding halt. "Leave him to me, North! This is _my_ fight!"

A fierce wind blew through the battlefield, knocking everyone, friend and foe, to the ground and swirling protectively around the boy. The force lifted him off of his feet, whipping his hair and clothes into a frenzy.

The Pumpkin King, who alone had not been effected by the ferocious gale, felt his heart quail unexpectedly upon seeing Jack's intense gaze focused on _him._ Hovering, surrounded by churning wind, staff gripped firmly in one hand, he looked like a vengeful angel—all he needed were wings. Or, even worse, he could've been an angry shepherd; the Pumpkin King had threatened the boy's flock, and now this shepherd was ready to attack. Desperately the pumpkin-headed spirit summoned and threw some larger fireballs, in hopes of stopping the boy from attacking. But when the fire struck the tornado surrounding Jack, the flame was immediately torn apart and dispersed by the force of the gale, leaving the King's target untouched.

The Pumpkin King staggered back in shock and horror, and then realized with a start that Jack was moving—darting forward, staff poised, target chosen—

And then the Pumpkin King was airborne.

He managed to catch himself, luckily, before Jack could follow up his sudden attack with another. Quickly the Pumpkin King backed up, allowing himself to face off with the now-flying boy, but no longer willing to just throw himself forward.

His anger had gone from a flare of passion to a slow-burning sizzle. It now lingered just beneath the surface, driving him on—but not recklessly so.

Jack, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine with "reckless". Ice crackled around him in a halo of hissing energy, and he held his staff aloft, obviously ready to attack.

Alright. Two could play at that game. Pumpkin King willed flame to surround him, and instantly a crown of dancing fire burst into existence around him.

Jack threw himself at the Pumpkin King, icy energy sparkling. The Pumpkin King lunged in return, flame roaring a challenge.

They collided in a firework display of blue and orange.

* * *

_**AN: So, whaddaya think? Jack's back in business, Pumpkin King's in rage-mode, two awesome powers are clashing in the sky in a fiery burst of pretty complimentary colors…I think my job here is done for today! :)**_

_**Oh, **__AnaEl92__**! I feel for you, I really do. You have no idea how many time's that's happened to me. And one of my best friends actually burst into tears in class due to pesky fanfictions…'course, we still read 'em. They're too good to give up. And wow, **__Dream Theme__**! I see you're into this. Well, here's your cliffhanger; sorry for evoking such strong feelings! Of course, the cliffhanger was pretty bad this time too, eh? And **__Embersky__**, thank you so very much. I really appreciate it. Haha, and I totally understand your pain. Good luck in someday owning it so you don't have to worry about stupid Redbox! :) Ooh, also, what's the other one you said you found for Rise of the Guardians? If it's that good, I think I'd like to give it a try! :)**_

'_**Til next time, folks! Watch out for Chapter IX (9): 'Spirits Can't Die'.**_

…_**And, just to help you make the connection, Chapter X will be 'But They Can Be Destroyed'.**_

_**Also, I am terribly sorry for the events of next chapter. I'm gonna apologize in advance, okeydokey? I am…well, not **_**truly**_** sorry. I rather enjoyed writing it. But I'm not sure how y'all will react…**_

_**Here's to the hope that you, my readers, will approve!**_


	9. Spirits Can't Die

_**AN: Hmm, this chapter is shorter than I thought it was. Only twelve pages…**_

_**Well, here's my excuse for updating: I found myself with more time on my hands than I thought I would today, and I got a very interesting review from **__EpicDetour9__**, so I thought—why not? Here's your second chapter today!**_

* * *

**The Time Jack Lost His Stick  
**By: C.L.

Chapter IX  
Spirits Can't Die

Jamie stared in awe at the two battling powers above everyone's heads, forgetting momentarily the fight taking place just on the other side of the ice barrier protecting him and the other children.

It was as if two explosions—one a neon, electric blue, the other a vibrant, intense orange—had collided far above the tree tops, creating an even bigger eruption of complimentary colors.

The force of the two attacks sent both Jack Frost and the Pumpkin King spinning away from each other, but neither gave up. Both once again summoned their chosen element and charged.

xXx

The Pumpkin King, despite the unbelievable power he was facing, couldn't help his signature devious leer. He had felt it—a slight give upon colliding with the younger elemental.

The pumpkin-headed spirit had realized that, despite the protection the wind provided Jack, he was not invulnerable. And that guaranteed Pumpkin King a win—because where there's fire, unprotected ice _melts._

Time and time again Jack and Pumpkin King threw themselves at each other, clashing in a brilliant display of icy blue and fiery orange, the two colors exploding on impact. Time and time again both spirits were thrown away by the force of the attacks. Time and time again they lunged.

Finally, when the two elements separated, they didn't immediately attack again.

Pumpkin King was gasping for breath, and his suit was speckled with streaks of frost. He looked down at his sleeve, at the icy, almost floral designs Jack had left, and felt anger rise up within him. Why did Jack refuse to die? Why was his fire not _destroying_ the young Guardian?

"What _are_ you?" he hissed furiously, skeletal hands clenching into hard fists. "Your staff is directly connected to your core, and yet when it is demolished you survive. You are a Guardian, but when no one believes in you, you survive. _You are a winter spirit_, but when confronted with fire, _you survive!_"

Jack drew himself up, looking powerful and regal despite the singe marks in his hoodie and the scrapes and scorch marks on his face. "I'm _Jack Frost_, the Guardian of Fun."

The Pumpkin King couldn't help laughing at the boy's tone—it sounded as if he was saying something epic, like "I am the Chosen One," or "I am Luke Skywalker." As if it was supposed to be impressive, and guarding _fun_ was something to be proud of. "The Guardian of _Fun,_" the devil sneered, fury forgotten in the face of Jack's reply. "My, my, I'm _so _scared. Look at me—I'm _trembling._"

Jack's eyes narrowed and he lunged angrily. "Yeah? Well at least I _have_ something to guard! _At least kids believe in me now!"_

The Pumpkin King's "slow-burning sizzle" of anger flared white-hot, and he lashed out abruptly, catching Jack across the chest and sending him flying.

xXx

"What's he doing?" Pippa asked in concern.

Jamie didn't have the answer, only shaking his head mutely in reply to her question. His eyes remained riveted on the battle overhead, where Jack had just been thrown back.

Pippa's confusion was shared by everyone, for instead of striking back, Jack flew up and hovered a few yards in front of the Pumpkin King, staff held only loosely. His head was cocked to the side, as if considering something, and his icy blue eyes were wide with the shock of some revelation.

"Come on," Jamie whispered to himself. "Jack, come on!"

xXx

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" Jack asked, his voice soft with understanding.

The Pumpkin King did not reply, choosing instead to strike again. This time, Jack saw it coming and dodged to the right, easily avoiding the swing. However, even as the Pumpkin King staggered, Jack didn't try to retaliate.

"You just…want to be believed in."

"No!" the Pumpkin King howled, lunging again, only to have Jack once more duck out of the way. "I am the Pumpkin King, the Master of Hallows Eve, the Fiercest Fright! I don't need _children's belief_ to fuel my existence!" He spat those two words, "children's belief", out like unpleasantly sour candy.

Jack stared at him in contemplation, pity in his eyes. "No," he said eventually. "I think you do. And I think you know that."

The Pumpkin King let out an enraged cry, and this time, his strike landed. Jack was sent crashing into a tree, and he fell heavily to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Lies," the Pumpkin King hissed, landing on his feet yards away from the downed winter sprite.

"No, they're not," Jack gasped hoarsely, struggling laboriously to prop himself up. "Belief is all that keeps us going. Without it, we're nothing."

"_I am not nothing!"_

Another white hot blast found its mark, spinning Jack back into a snowdrift. But still, the boy refused to fight back.

"You are," he insisted. "I was too, before I found my center. Please, Pumpkin King! You just need to find your center. You can get kids to believe in you _without_ needing them to fear you! You_ don't have to do this!_"

"_I TOLD YOU!_" The Pumpkin King roared with rage, summoning two huge globs of fire. "I am _not_ pathetic like you! I do _not_ need belief, or a center! I _am not falling for your tricks!_"

His enraged shriek was savagely emphasized by an eruption of white light and burning flame that sent everything within a twenty yard radius flying away and melted thick snow and ice even beyond that. Jack was thrown violently back, slammed against the unforgiving trunk of a tree, and dropped unceremoniously to the ground and the now snow-free grass. His staff clattered to the ground just out of reach.

Thin frost swirled underneath Jack's fingertips, coating each delicate blade of grass, but Jack was so weak now that he doubted he could do anything more than that small magic. Though before he had been refusing to fight, he knew that now, he physically was unable to defend himself.

He struggled to sit himself up anyway, making no move to reach his abandoned staff. "They aren't…tricks…" he panted weakly. "I can help you."

The Pumpkin King took a threatening step forward, more fire dancing on his own fingertips. Jack forced himself not to flinch away, even as the enemy approached. Instead, Jack spoke, the words coming out faster and faster as the Pumpkin King drew ever closer. "Please, I know what it's like, to feel alone and invisible. I know what it's like to have all of the other spirits hate me and think I'm no good. I know what it's like to be a…" He gulped nervously and shot a glance at North. "A rebel without a cause. I know what it's like to feel betrayed, and powerless, and tempted by fear."

The Pumpkin King halted in front of the prone boy, the fire in his palms flaring brighter.

"But I also know what it's like to have a kid see me, and to be heard and to have friends. I know what it's like to find my purpose. I know what it's like to be accepted for both who and what I am, and to find my place, and I know what it's like to be a hero. _Pumpkin_ _King_, I _know what you're going through_, and I _know_ that there are better things out there. You're _not alone._ I can _help you._"

The Pumpkin King's skeletal hands, which Jack had found so creepy upon first seeing them, trembled. The fire flickered.

Shock set Jack's heart beating faster. He was actually getting through to the Pumpkin King. The pumpkin-headed spirit was listening to him. He was allowing himself to be swayed.

Jack watched in amazement as indecision, uncertainty, and, amazingly,_ longing_ flickered across the King's normally sinister features.

"You don't have to do this," Jack whispered again, hoping that this time, the Pumpkin King would listen.

It was the wrong thing to say.

The fire flared, blinding Jack, and the Pumpkin King drew his arm back in preparation to smite the boy that lay defenseless before him. Jack realized what was about to happen, but didn't fight it. He was too weak to fight, too weak to flee, and a quick glance around revealed that no one was within distance to help him (Toothiana and Sandman were fighting a wraith, North was halfway across the clearing, and Bunny was…in a puzzling predicament that rendered him incapable of help). All he could do was press himself back against the tree. He screwed his eyes shut—as if not seeing it would make it better—and turned his head away, expecting to feel the burn any second.

He couldn't help trembling as he awaited the end.

xXx

"No," Jamie gasped, pressing himself against the ice. "Jack! Jack, no! Fight! Jack!"

He didn't understand it. Why had Jack suddenly stopped fighting? Was it that he couldn't? Had something happened to his powers? Was he hurt?

Jamie watched in terror as the Pumpkin King's fire flashed brighter.

"_Jack!"_

xXx

**Two Minutes Earlier; North's POV  
**North looked around wildly, expecting another shadow to attack, but surprisingly no attack came. Instead, the area all around him was clear of any hostile creatures.

The only shadow left was a particularly strong wraith that was currently sparring with Sandman. Indeed, North recognized it as the one they had originally followed to Burgess.

Tooth and Bunny also seemed to realize that only one foe was left. Tooth shouted to the men: "Leave this one to me and Sandy, and go help Jack!"

_Jack_. Where was the boy? North looked at Bunnymund.

"It'd be kinda pathetic if Tooth an' Sandy couldn't beat _one_ baddie without help, Mate," Bunny admitted. "Let's find Jack."

Suddenly, blinding radiance erupted from somewhere off to the left of the battlefield. Wind and fire slammed North in the face, erasing any semblance of thought he might have had and knocking him completely off of his feet. Through the roar of the explosion he could hear Bunnymund shouting and Toothiana screaming.

Then he slammed into something—hard. He lay where he'd fallen, stunned. Around him, he heard various sounds—Bunny cursing to himself from somewhere a good ways above him (which made no sense), Toothiana coughing and gasping for breath somewhere to his left (which made a bit more sense) and a cacophony of crashes and screams from somewhere behind him—Sandy, still fighting the wraith. He listened as Tooth recovered herself and then flew back into the fray with a furious battle cry.

Only one Guardian wasn't accounted for—but then, suddenly, he was.

"_They aren't…tricks…._"

The voice was indistinct, but getting clearer as it continued.

"_I can help you_."

North groaned and pushed himself up onto hands and knees. He felt the initial daze leaving him, though, and slowly everything was coming into focus. The voice especially was clearer.

"Please, I know what it's like, to feel alone and invisible."

There was a shout above North, and he looked up to see Bunny, incredibly, caught in the branches of the tree above, his fur tangled in the sharp branches. Suddenly, the cursing he had heard before (and the direction it had been coming from) made a lot more sense. The rabbit had obviously been struggling.

Now, though, his sharp emerald eyes were fixed on something behind North. For a moment, he was still with blatant shock. Then he began to struggle even harder, showering North with leaves.

"'Elp 'im!" Bunny bellowed frantically. "North—'elp 'im!"

Meanwhile, Jack's words were coming faster and faster, rising with desperation. North rolled into a sitting position, shook off the daze, and peered owlishly at the scene before him. He almost didn't believe it.

"I know what it's like to have the other spirits hate me and think I'm no good." Jack was saying quickly as the Pumpkin King drew nearer. "I know what it's like to be a…" North watched as the boy shot a brief, anxious glance at him and gulped. "A rebel without a cause. I know what it's like to feel betrayed, and powerless, and tempted by fear."

"What's the li'l idiot doin'!" Bunny demanded angrily. "North, save 'im!"

But North had seen something that Bunny hadn't—the way the Pumpkin King was faltering. The way his bony hands trembled. North couldn't tell if the Pumpkin King was going to collapse or attack—it seemed as if both options were currently viable.

"But I also know what it's like to have a kid see me, and to be heard and to have friends," Jack continued, softer. "I know what it's like to find my purpose. I know what it's like to be accepted for both who and what I am, and to find my place, and I know what it's like to be a hero. _Pumpkin_ _King_, I _know what you're going through_, and I _know_ that there are better things out there. You're _not alone._ I can _help you._"

The Pumpkin King was frozen, fire faltering, whole body trembling. Up in the tree, Bunnymund had gone silent, from the shock of both Jack's admission and the Pumpkin King's reaction. Both he and North realized that, somehow, Jack had found the one thing guaranteed to get through to the crazy, murderous spirit. They didn't know how it had happened, but he had.

Now, all that was left to do was see how the Pumpkin King reacted.

"You don't have to do this," Jack whispered, the hope apparent in his voice. North and Bunny (who was still up in the tree) watched with bated breath for the pumpkin-headed spirit's reply.

To their horror, the flame flared suddenly brighter, and the Pumpkin King raised his arm to bring the deadly fire down on their friend. "_Jack!"_ Bunny shouted. North felt himself rising to his feet, though he distinctly remembered being too dazed to do so before. Amazing what fear can push a man to do. But North knew he was too far away. Toothiana and Sandy were tied up with the final wraith, which seemed particularly strong, and Bunny, despite his frantic jerking around and struggling, was still up that tree.

Jack seemed to realize this, too, as his eyes flickered hopefully to his friends. North watched in dismay as the realization dawned in the youngster's eyes, and he pressed back against the tree, obviously too weak to avoid what was coming. North staggered forward, but still he was too weak to move fast enough. The fire flared, as Jack shrunk away from his death, his eyes squeezed shut and face turned away.

Then, finally, _finally_, there came a huge tearing and crashing sound from behind. Bunnymund's startled shout seemed to ring off the trees, followed by a savage snarl of triumph as Bunny realized he was free and leapt forward, poised to attack.

But North had seen something—something that gave him hope. "Wait," he breathed, holding out an arm to stop the enraged rabbit. Bunny skidded to a startled stop, ears rigid in surprise.

"But—" he began, voice almost an octave higher in protest.

"Shh," North hissed, eyes riveted on the scene before them. Bunny stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief, no doubt wondering at North's sanity, and then followed his gaze to the Pumpkin King.

The spirit hadn't moved.

He was still poised to strike, but he wasn't actually doing so. He seemed to falter, then tense again to kill—and then falter again. It was as if two powers within him were fighting, and he couldn't decide—_to kill or not to kill?_ His whole body trembled with the quandary. Some part of him desperately wanted to kill Jack…but another part was holding him back.

The two onlookers could only pray that his self-restraint would win.

And then, amazingly, the flames fizzled out, and the Pumpkin King's whole countenance sagged as he heaved a nervous sigh.

Jack, who was still pressed against the tree with his eyes closed, flinched at the unexpected sound. But still he felt no pain. Wondering if maybe he was already dead—after all, no one knew for sure if death hurt, especially for spirits—Jack cracked his eyes open a bit, squinting in confusion at the spirit who had almost been his executioner.

His eyes widened in shock when he realized that not only was he not dead, but the Pumpkin King's fire was out. They held each other's gazes for a long moment, and, very gradually, Jack's tense, drawn-back posture began to ease as he read something in those eyes that held no malevolence.

There was a moment of charged silence as everyone waited.

Finally…

"You'd really be willing to help me? After what I've done to you?"

North and Bunny heaved identical sighs of relief, and Jack visibly relaxed. "Of course," he replied with a smile, as he turned partly to fully face the spirit. "_I'd_ be the bad guy if I didn't at least try! And I know you're not evil at heart; what you _want_ is good. You're just doing all the wrong things to retrieve it."

The Pumpkin King appeared thoughtful as he considered that. "You're right," he admitted at length. "Thank you." He proffered a hand, and Jack gratefully accepted it, making sure to grab his staff with his free hand as the Pumpkin King pulled him to his feet.

North let out a contented breath and grinned at Bunny. "That is it, no?" he asked with satisfaction.

"I think…I think you may be right," Bunny agreed with amazement. "Who woulda thought it, aye?"

The two shared a good-natured laugh as Jack smiled up at the Pumpkin King and the Pumpkin King tentatively attempted to return it.

The children were safe.

The fight was over.

Except—neither of those statements is true.

"_No!"_

The enraged shriek seemed to split the air, startling everyone into clutching at their various weapons and turning frantically to find the source of the sudden noise. Upon finding it, they were alarmed to behold the wraith throwing Toothiana and Sandman off and seeming to grow taller and larger with fury, purple and green flames wreathing his shifting form.

"No!" came again the furious screech. "This is _not_ how it was supposed to go! You," he waved frantically at the Pumpkin King, "should be dead! And _you._" The fire around him billowed up in a sudden flare of anger as the wraith glowered at Jack, whose smile had vanished. "How _dare_ you show your face here?! How _dare_ you ruin _everything!"_

He lunged forward, knocking Bunnymund and Sandman to the ground and trailing purple and green flames in his wake. Taken by surprise, the Pumpkin King's reaction was too slow, and he found himself shoved to the side by the fiery blur as the wraith, his lieutenant, Sin Cantus, snagged Jack by the throat and shoved him up against the tree he had previously been pressed against.

"But," Sin hissed, a suddenly triumphant leer curling his lips, "since you're here now, I can kill you _myself_."

"What—?!" Jack choked, eyes wide with surprise and confusion, clawing at the skeletal hand that had suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared, crushing his windpipe. "Who—?!"

The grip tightened, choking him into wide-eyed silence. "Ex_actly_," Sin Cantus growled in barely contained rage. "No one knows who I _am!_ That weak _fool_, the Pumpkin King, presides over Hallows Eve, but he's let it become a joke! _I_ shall rule the night, and that weak-minded _dolt_ shall be cast into _oblivion!"_

Jack was hardly able to follow the long speech. He was beginning to feel woozier and woozier, but he had enough semblance of thought to be distinctly alarmed at the unexpected turn of events. He could have sworn that it had been over…

"But Cantus!" the Pumpkin King cried in horror, preoccupied with his own pains—the sting of betrayal. "You're my right-hand ghost! You've never—"

"Of _course_ I have never spoken out!" Sin howled. "You were my _lord!_ You could smite me with a single blow! You were _pitiful_—you _are_ pitiful—but you had _power._ Power that _should_ have been in _my_ hands!"

"Gah!" Jack managed to gasp hoarsely, interrupting their conversation and prying uselessly at the fingers around his neck. "Hel. . . lo. . . gugh . . . . can't…_breathe_…gck...help?"

Sin grinned devilishly at him, gradually tightening his grip until Jack couldn't even choke—only claw weakly at the iron grip and stare into the wraith's shifting face with round, horror-filled eyes that were, bit by bit, glazing over.

The rest of the Guardians finally managed to shake off their dazes (and, in Bunny's case, the fire singing his otherwise silky pelt) and get over their shock, and, seeing Jack's peril, they all drew their weapons (or, in Tooth's case, flared her razor sharp wings) and rushed forward as one to help. But Sin, seeing the motion in his peripheral vision, threw out a long arm. A wall of purple and green flames burst forth, spreading into a circle surrounding Sin, the Pumpkin King, Jack, and the tree, separating the Guardians from the main event. The Guardians all staggered back in shock, repelled by the heat. Desperately Toothiana tried to fly over the barrier, but, as if it had a life of its own, the flames rose to greet her, chasing her away.

The Pumpkin King was still oblivious to the plights of those around him. "I didn't know you felt this way," he said in dejection.

Sin, diverted from the fun he'd been having choking the life out of Jack, scowled reprovingly at his former lord, his grip slackening just enough for Jack to suck in a shallow, desperate breath and fight the fog descending slowly over his brain.

"No," Sin replied in disgust. "You never did. You were _such _a blind _idiot_. You practically _let_ me manipulate you. Who was it that suggested you take Halloween in the first place? Who was it that suggested you kidnap the children?! _Who _was it that suggested you _target_ _the_ _Guardians_? _Who was it that suggested breaking the boy's staff?_ But _no,_ you just _refuse to die!_"

The wraith was breathing heavily now, obviously beyond reason.

"I have manipulated your _every move_, twisted your _very thoughts!_ Oh yes, there was some trouble here and there, when you survived, and when I thought Frost hadn't, _but it was still working!_ But _you._ _You_ ruined it _again!_"

The Pumpkin King's face fell and there was devastation in his eyes. He dropped to his knees, emotionally broken by the sudden realization that he'd been no more than a puppet, allowing his violent emotions to be his strings.

His used-to-be-servant turned abruptly to his victim. "But _no more_," he breathed, ignoring his used-to-be-master. His voice was suddenly soft with exultation. "I will seize what is rightfully mine."

He pulled an ebony knife from the shadows of his cloak, and Jack's eyes flashed with fear. The boy's struggles intensified, but the grip remained firm as the spirit began to chant in a low, lilting voice that everyone could hear despite its volume.

"_For a sacrifice shall be made, on hallowed ground, on Hallows Eve, under hallowed moon."_ He raised the dagger slowly. "_Innocence shall be corrupted under spite."_ He grinned knowingly at Jack. "_Altruism shall crumple under greed._" He twirled the knife before Jack's clouded eyes. _"Dreams shall die under hopelessness_." Jack kicked out weakly, but met no resistance. "_Faith shall topple under impossibility."_ Jack's gaze shifted weakly to the Guardians, but they were still held at bay behind the fire. "_Determination shall waver against futility."_ Jack's struggles, feeble as they had been, ceased altogether as strength failed him. "_Light shall vanish under darkness."_ Jack tried again to draw a shallow breath. "_And ice,_" the spirit finished with relish, _"shall finally melt, under the fire of vice._

"_The power shall be mine."_

The multicolored flames surged and the ebony dagger flashed. To Jack's watering eyes, the weapon was little more than a glittering black blur, arching toward him. For the second time that night, he squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the blow any moment. He didn't know what the wraith's words meant, but he did know one thing: he was about to die.

And he still wasn't sure how it had happened.

* * *

_**AN: Oooooooh…whoops. Guess I'm not done with the cliffhangers yet, am I?**_

_**So what do you think about **_**that**_** particular twist? I always liked turning villains to the light—I'm afraid it's always my first choice, if I can help it—but don't worry; Sin Cantus won't turn.**_

…_**See, what I'm worried about here is whether or not you guys will condone Pumpkin King turning. You seemed kind of happy with him being a sadistic evil freak. So now I've gone and made Sin the **_**more**_** sadistic, **_**more**_** evil freak…and Pumpkin King has seen the light. The question is, is that a bad thing or a good thing in your books?**_

_**Aw, what the heck. It's a good thing in my books, and I'll stay by my decision. I've got to stay true to myself and my fantasies, after all, right? :) So, I hope you guys enjoyed this!**_

_**By the way…I actually **_**am**_** done with the cliffhangers. The next chapter will be 10/10, and then all we've got is the epilogue, to tie up all the loose ends. So guess what? It won't end in a cliffhanger! Yay! :)**_

_**So, I'll just address some reviews, and then I'm officially signing off for tonight. Here goes:**_

_EpicDetour9__**, I'm sorry to say that your review perplexes me. It looks kind of like you ran a hand across your keyboard…or did you slam something down on the keyboard? Out of frustration? If so, I'm terribly sorry; I hope this eases that particular frustration. Don't worry; we're almost done!**_

_WRATH77__**, thank you very much! I'm aiming to make this easy to picture, with the descriptions and keeping everything realistic (to an extent) and everyone in character. I'm glad to know that I'm succeeding! After all, that's the most any author can do, right?**_

_Guest__**, thank **_**you**_** as well! You and **__EpicDetour9__** are actually the reasons I posted more tonight; you because you said 'continue it' and so I thought…well, why not? Haha, so thank you for that! Also, I'm glad you stayed on for the whole story! I remember your review from chapter two; you're right, North was really gullible! :D Haha. Thanks for stayin' with me and reading it all!**_

_**And of course, thanks to everyone else who's done the same! I'm glad to have such enthusiastic readers!**_

_**And, also, I can't forget everyone who hasn't reviewed. I understand that sometimes people read and don't and/or can't review, so here's to you people who've been enjoying this story without commenting! I hope you've been enjoying it as well…though, of course, I can't know for sure unless you **_**tell me.**_** *hint hint shimmy shimmy nudge nudge* Like, through a review. *cough cough***_

_**Right, not-so-subtle needling aside…good night! Stay tuned for Chapter X: 'But They Can Be Destroyed'!**_

_**(Hint: This chapter title goes hand in hand with Chapter IX's title. Look and see if you don't believe me.)**_


	10. But They Can Be Destroyed

**_AN: Yay! Last real chapter!_**

**_…wait…*eyes wide*_**

**_Last…real…chapter…?_**

**Awwwwwwwwwww****_…crap._**

* * *

Chapter X  
But They Can Be Destroyed

_For a sacrifice shall be made, on hallowed ground, on Hallows Eve, under hallowed moon. Innocence shall be corrupted under spite. Altruism shall crumple under greed. Dreams shall die under hopelessness_. _Faith shall topple under impossibility. Determination shall waver against futility. Light shall vanish under darkness. And ice shall finally melt, under the fire of vice._

_The power shall be mine._

There was a sudden shout of rage, shattering the moment. Jack felt something slam into him (something that was, to his simultaneous alarm and relief, not a knife), and the fingers around his neck disappeared abruptly, dropping him to the ground. He curled up into a fetal position, choking and retching and clutching at his throat as his windpipe snapped painfully back into position—as if it had forgotten where it was really supposed to be and was protesting having to go back. Air—cool, blessed, painfully sweet air—rattled in and out of his lungs, choking him almost as badly as the hand had as he tried to get used to breathing again.

Finally, he managed to draw a long, good breath and steady himself. Trauma set aside, he became aware of worried voices and hands prodding him. He opened his eyes and blinked confusedly up at those gathered above him—North, Bunnymund, Tooth, and Sandy, all kneeling around his body.

Events were moving way too fast for him. One moment he'd been waiting for Pumpkin King to kill him. Then he'd been smiling at him. Then he'd been slammed against a tree and shouted at. Then he'd been about to die again. And now—he wasn't dying? Couldn't fate go a little easy on him and slow things down a tad?

"Are you okay, Sweet Tooth?" Toothiana asked anxiously.

Jack's head was pounding. "What happened?" he demanded hoarsely, trying to sit up. "What's going on? Why are you—why am I—how did he—"

He couldn't seem to find the right question—there were just so _many._

Then he realized something. He'd seen his friends trapped behind the fire, only moments before (though it felt like forever ago). If they were here…

Why had Sin put the fire out?

And, while he was at it, why had Sin let him go in the first place? Jack struggled to sit up, casting around quickly for the murderous spirit.

Two figures were grappling by the tree—the Pumpkin King, who'd apparently gotten over his betrayal, and Sin Cantus, who was currently pinned to the tree by his former master. The Pumpkin King's arms trembled with the effort of holding the writhing specter down, but he wasn't King of Halloween for nothing. He had his skeletal fingers clasped around Sin's wrist, holding the knife at bay, and his other elbow pressed against the spirit's throat, trapping him against the bark much as Jack had previously been.

"Don't," the Pumpkin King growled in warning. "I won't let you."

Sin's red eyes narrowed with wrath, lighting up with enraged flames. "No," he hissed furiously. "You will not ruin this again! _I will rule!"_

"I won't let you kill him!" the Pumpkin King insisted angrily, digging his elbow in deeper. "You will have no sacrifice!"

Sin growled, a sound from deep within his throat. "_Then you will die."_

Flames wrapped around him, throwing the Pumpkin King back and freeing Sin.

"Pumpkin King!" cried Jack, staggering to his feet, grabbing his staff, and stumbling to the downed king's side, brushing past his friends. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"No!" the Pumpkin King shouted, eyes wide. "Duck!" He grabbed Jack's shirt and pulled him to the ground just as Sin struck. He flew over their heads, right through the space Jack had previously been occupying, and crashed into the ice surrounding the children.

xXx

Jamie leapt back in shock as the ice shuddered on impact with the wraith. Next to him, Sophie burst into tears as many of the other kids staggered back, some even screaming. "Jamie, Jamie!" she sobbed. "I'm scared!"

Jamie wrapped his arms around her, staring at the wraith. "It's okay, Sophie," he murmured, trying to set her at ease and still her trembling. "It's going to be okay."

xXx

"I'm scared!"

The voice of Jamie's little sister seemed to ring in Jack's ears, triggering a different memory—a voice from the past, echoed by the present.

_"Jack, I'm scared!"_

He hadn't ignored his sister's cry.

Another memory surfaced—a more recent one. A different voice, a softer, male voice—but no less terrified.

"_Jack, I'm scared._"

He hadn't ignored Jamie's plea, either.

Now, those same words caused his grip on his staff to tighten. In the past, he had protected those children, banished the fear. Maybe this time, he couldn't just say "We're going to have a little fun," and suggest hopscotch or a snowball fight, but that wouldn't stop him.

"Get away from them!" he shouted, leaping to his feet and brandishing his staff.

Sin laughed derisively. "Oh? Get away from them? I suppose that means I shouldn't do…_this?_" He trailed one long, delicate finger over the frozen wall, leaving a thin trail of fire and melting the ice. "Or…_this?_" Heat glowed from his fingertips as he shoved a burning hand through the barrier, melting a good-sized hole in the wall.

"Stop!" Jack shouted, letting loose with a bolt of ice.

Sin deflected it easily with one fiery palm. "Or what?" He laughed. "I'm immortal. It's not as if you can kill me."

Fingers gripped Jack's shoulder, and the boy looked up to see the Pumpkin King standing next to him, fire dancing in his eyes and around his feet.

"You're right," the King said softly. "Spirits can't be killed."

Jack, ever perceptive, sensed a "but" there, and apparently Sin did too. His eyes widened in disbelief and fear as the Pumpkin King finished in a dangerous tone: "But they can be destroyed."

The words galvanized Jack. He tightened his grip on his staff and turned to face Sin. Next to him, he could feel his new ally tensing, preparing for what was necessary.

Sin backed up in fear. "No," he breathed, realizing that he had taken it too far. But it was too little, too late. Jack and the Pumpkin King both let loose with their powers, with ice and fire respectively. The two elements swirled together, forming a lethal column of equals and opposites, of burning cold, of freezing heat, of complimentary colors. Sin shrieked his defiance, but the sound was abruptly cut off as the fire and ice consumed him, leaving nothing standing where he had been and the echoes of the final screech ringing in everybody's ears.

The brilliance of the icy blue and fiery orange attack faded, leaving everyone blinking in the sudden darkness.

There was silence, as realization began to dawn on everyone—that it was over. This time, it was _really_ over.

Jack reacted first, leaping into the air and letting out a triumphant whoop that ricocheted off the trees. The wind swirled around him, responding in kind to his elation and twirling him around. Jack beamed giddily at everyone. "He's gone!" he shouted, stating the wonderful obvious.

The kids all cheered (or, those who could see it all, anyway) and the Pumpkin King allowed himself a ghost of a smile. He wasn't sure what to do or where his place was now that it was over, but he rather hoped that he wouldn't be kicked out.

Toothiana let out a tinkling laugh and flew up to join Jack, spinning happy loop-de-loops. Sandy hugged North, and Bunny grinned and sheathed his boomerangs.

xXx

"Please, please, _please_ can I stay up?" Jamie asked desperately, widening his eyes and trying for an innocent pleading look.

Jack couldn't stand under those puppy dog eyes. He looked over at Sandy, cocking his head in question. Bunny rolled his eyes. "Ya don' know 'ow to say 'No' to children yet, aye kid?"

Jack shrugged. "I just can't," he admitted.

Jamie grinned in triumph. "Yes!" he exclaimed in exhilaration.

All of the children besides Jamie had been put to sleep by the Sandman, as it had been decided that this would make it easier to return them home. Jamie grinned now and hugged Jack, making sure to keep the pushover winter sprite between him and the little golden man—just in case Sandy decided to put him to sleep after all.

Jack caught on to the ploy and laughed. "You just don't give up, do you?"

"Uh-unh," Jamie replying, shaking his head.

"Okay everybody, into sleigh!" North bellowed, waving everyone over to the sleigh. Bunny looked dubiously at the vehicle, which was packed with children. It wasn't the safest means of travel on the best of days (in his opinion) and now, crowded as it was, he didn't see how they would all fit, or how it could carry so much weight.

"Uh, I'm not so su—"

"Nonsense!" North boomed good-naturedly, clapping his companion on the back and sending the rabbit staggering. "It is perfectly fine! In you go; come come!" He picked Bunny up by the scruff of his neck and threw him in to join the children. He climbed up into the driver's seat, followed by Sandy, and Toothiana, Pumpkin King, and Jamie found themselves seats in the back. There was hardly any room left, so it was just as well that Jack opted to leap onto the wing and settle there.

"_Whoooo-hooooo!"_ Jack yelled at the clouds in exhilaration as the sleigh careened into the sky, flipping and loop-de-looping like a drunken bird. Jamie was shrieking with laughter and excitement and had both hands up in the air as if he was on a roller coaster. Bunny huddled in a corner and kept both paws firmly pressed to his mouth, looking decidedly sick.

The Pumpkin King, even in the crowded vehicle, managed to stay separate from the friends, watching uncertainly as they interacted almost effortlessly. The frost spirit seemed to be at the center of it all—teasing Bunnymund, slapping high fives with Sandman, playing with Jamie, laughing with Toothiana. He was so full of energy and excitement, elated and overwhelmed with the thrill of victory.

Jamie cheered as Jack flew circles around the sleigh, the wind throwing him up and around with seemingly no regard to gravity. "Go Jack!" he yelled happily, waving and grinning. The boy was more than glad that he'd convinced them to let him stay awake—he was euphoric. He was riding in Santa's sleigh! How _cool _was that?!

He was also still stunned concerning the events of that night. Like Jack, Jamie felt that things had moved just a tad too quickly, and some events were still running circles in his head, trying to make sense. First the Pumpkin King had been evil, then he hadn't been, then Sin had been killing Jack, then he hadn't been, and Jack had been dead, except he hadn't been, and something about spirits not being able to be killed, except they could be—gah! It was giving him a migraine, and he was too _young_ for migraines!

One question, though, he had to ask.

"Jack?" he called softly to the celebrating spirit. Jack, who had been racing with a passing flock of birds and having fun scaring the poor little creatures, spun around at the unexpected lack of excitement in the child's voice.

"Uh-huh?" he replied expectantly, zipping over and flying along next to Jamie to keep up with the sleigh.

"Where were you? Before you saved us from the Pumpkin King. None of the other guys thought you'd come, and he said you were dead."

Jack smiled. "I can't die, silly."

Jamie glared at him. "But you almost did. And that ghost died."

Jack considered that, the smile fading as concentration replaced it. Slowly, he descended and lit down once more on the wing, next to Jamie's seat. "Well, I guess it all depends," Jack said at length. "Depending on what you believe, dying is your spirit leaving your body, right? But, since we _are_ spirits, I guess we can't die technically because there's nothing for the spirit to leave. That's why we live forever."

"But—"

"But that ghost died, right?" Jack finished for him, guessing his question. Jamie nodded.

"Well, his spirit didn't leave any body," Jack replied after a long moment of thought. "It ceased to exist—destroyed. So I guess, though it doesn't make sense at first, it really is true: we can't be killed, but we can be destroyed."

Jamie was now even more turned around then before. "What?" he asked in confusion, brow wrinkling in bewilderment. "I don't get it."

Jack laughed. "You don't have to."

"But you didn't answer my question," Jamie suddenly realized with a reproachful glare. "Where were you? Why weren't you with the rest of the Guardians?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "You can thank Bunny for that. He said it was too dangerous."

Jamie frowned. "But you're the most powerful of them all."

Jack looked at Bunny, who'd been listening, and waggled his eyebrows meaningfully. "Well now, did you hear that, Kangaroo?" he asked in triumph. He turned again to Jamie. "Can you say that again, only this time wait for me to go get a tape recorder?"

Bunny rolled his eyes. Jamie managed to resist a smile, though, instead asking another question: "Why was it too dangerous for you?"

Jack was silent for a long moment, as Jamie held his gaze. It seemed to Jamie that Jack was considering how much he could get away with not telling him.

"Don't lie," Jamie warned.

Jack sighed. "So, I wasn't at full power, okay?" he admitted. The words came out quickly, like he was trying to get the explanation over with: "I got attacked, I got pretty beat up, but I'm back and I'm here and I'd rather not think about what almost happened." He stood and grinned down at his first believer. "So how about we have a little fun and celebrate Halloween, eh?"

Suddenly, realization dawned in his eyes and his face was lit up by a huge grin. "Wait, it's Halloween! _Snow day!"_ He leapt off the wing and started to fly off in a different direction—and then seemed to be brought up short by yet another thought. He looked back at the Pumpkin King.

"You, uh, don't mind, do you? I kinda made a promise…"

The Pumpkin King smiled softly, amused at the younger spirit's antics. "If you promised, then by all means, go ahead."

Jack let out a jubilant whoop and soared away. He wheeled and spun through the town below the sleigh, zipping along the streets in a flurry of wind and snowflakes, reveling in the feeling of doing what he had been made to do, for the first time in what felt like a couple eternities. In that moment, the children were safe, everyone was happy, he was flying, and snow was falling.

For the first time in three long days, he felt, completely and entirely, like Jack Frost again.

The occupants of the sleigh went quiet one by one as they watched him swoop through Burgess, trailing snow and frost, blissfully unaware of his audience. Even the Pumpkin King was thinking that the sight was its own kind of beautiful. It was a rare thing to glimpse Jack Frost in his element like this, cheerfully spreading snow, for he flitted around the world so much that it was nigh impossible to catch him except on accident. But the glimpse was well worth the trouble, should anyone have taken it.

"Several times today, I had thought I'd never see boy like this again," North admitted, eyes not leaving the scene. All of Jack's friends nodded agreement (even Jamie), for they all understood what he meant by "like this": innocently happy, having fun, doing what he was good at, free to fly.

Watching the bright, joyful light he had almost snuffed out, Pumpkin King felt shame wash over him. He bowed his head. "I'm sorry for all of this," he apologized, voice choked with emotion. "If I'd just kept my head, instead of letting Cantus twist my thoughts…well, maybe none of this would have happened." He looked again at the winter spirit. "How can anyone in their right mind target such an innocent, happy soul?" he murmured almost to himself.

The four Guardians shared looks, each asking a silent question. Finally, North, blue eyes shining, nodded once. The rest nodded in return, and turned to face the Pumpkin King, who looked a little lost as he watched Jack.

"Pumpkin King," Toothiana began gently. The spirit raised his head, his eyes meeting hers for the briefest second before he hurriedly looked away, still uncertain. Toothiana smiled gently in reassurance and placed a hand on his. "We forgive you."

The Pumpkin King looked up at her in surprise. "Y-you do?"

"If Jack forgives evil murderous ghost, ghost not so evil or murderous as we thought, eh?" North asked with a smile. The Pumpkin King looked confused.

"What he means to say is, if Frostbite can let'cha off the hook, we sure as 'eck can too," Bunnymund explained.

Sandy nodded in agreement, and he held out his hand in a clear invitation. Looking a little dazed, Pumpkin King accepted the small hand and they shook.

Suddenly, Bunny leaned forward, shoving his nose right up into Pumpkin King's face and forcing the spirit to lean back in surprise. "But," he added, voice low with menace, "if you so much as _blink_ threateningly at the kid again, you will have to deal with all of us. Understood?"

The Pumpkin King nodded quickly.

"Good." Bunny retreated. "Now." He turned to Jamie. "What's all this about the kid bein' stronger than the rest of us?"

While Jamie tried to explain the reasoning behind his thinking (happily oblivious to the hole he was digging both himself and Jack deeper into with every word) Pumpkin King turned his attention back to the winter sprite—and tried not to blink too threateningly.

Except, how does one blink threateningly?

He resolved not to blink at all.

* * *

**_AN: May I just say, this and the last chapter are my two favorites. The last one had all the awesome action in it, with the villains changing sides and betraying each other and knives flashing and fire and ice explosions—whoopee! And then this one just had a whole lot of great funny moments._**

**_So, that's that for this story, anyway. I'm going to have a short epilogue to briefly tie up all of the loose strings, but this was really the real conclusion. Thank you so much for everyone who's been on this ride with me, and also to all y'all folks who will read this in the future, now that I'm done! I hoped you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!_**

**_So, some brief shout outs to various reviewers who commented on last chapter, eh? Also, a heads up, next chapter will have the official lists. You'll understand what I mean when I get there._**

_TasteTheRainbowww_**_, I am both terribly sorry for keeping you up 'til midnight just to leave you with a cliffhanger and terribly happy that you found this good enough to keep you up 'til midnight! :D I hope you got enough sleep, but if you didn't…will this make up for it? ;)_**

_Don't touch my Seaweed Brain_**_, here's to the hope that you did not die while waiting for this update ('cause that would kinda-sorta suck). Whaddaya think? Was it worth it? I know I always hate it when I'm into a good story and then the ending is downplayed and anticlimactic…I desperately hope that I'm not being a hypocrite and doing that! It's my worst fear at the moment…_**

_Embersky_**_, I completely know what you mean! I love the mystique and anticipation that goes into a cliffhanger, and sometimes they can be really beautifully done, and those are the best nights when I stay up staring at my ceiling, imagining everything that could happen next…but at the same time, not knowing what happens next can be SO FRUSTRATING. Haha, I like to joke, though, that I'm building up a resistance to them. I've read so many cliffhangers by now that they don't really affect me unless it's an exceptional story and a really stressful cliffhanger. Here's the secret: it will be updated eventually, and until then, go read other fanfiction and/or stories to run the questions out of your mind (though watching and/or reading the actual canon works too). And if it's one of those horrible ones that's never updated, then take that as the author's permission to write your own headcanon for what happens, since they were rude enough not to give you the real ending._**

_isthisparadise_**_, you have made me ridiculously happy! Thank you so much for addressing my fears about Pumpkin King's loyalties. I'm glad that you approve! No, he's not a Guardian (at least, not that I've made him, yet) and I doubt he will be, but you're right—that really could be taken anywhere. Heck, if you want to do something with that, feel free! Haha._**

_beanie-art1_**_, you just summed up that whole thing in three words. Thank you. Hey, have you seen the Croods? If you haven't, ignore that question. If you have, I'm sure you know why I asked._**

_moonshine19_**_, three words: YOU. ARE. AWESOME. Thank you so much for that review! You have no idea how amazingly, absurdly happy that made me! It's not every day an author gets such high compliments, and I am so glad to know that I've achieved my goal! All I really wanted when writing this was to stay true to the movie and write something in the general spirit of Rise of the Guardians—since it was so completely awesome (Most. Perfect. Movie. Ever. Period.). I was really worried about keeping everyone IC and not deviating at all, and I'm ecstatic—no, _****EUPHORIC—****_to know that I've succeeded. THANK YOU!_**

**_Okay, guys, the epilogue won't be up right away—I'm going to wait about a day to give everyone time to read this one and do everything they need to (i.e., review. Hint, hint). You'll see why in the epilogue. So, estimated time of update: some time tomorrow._**

**_Unless tomorrow ends up being one of those hectic days where nothing gets done. In which case, you will get the epilogue on…what day is it…? April 6_****_th_****_…which may or may not be a Friday…_**

**_Where's a calendar or phone when you need one?_**


	11. Ze Epilogue

_**AN: Heads up—this is going to have a really LONG AN at the end.**_

_**You have been warned!**_

_**Also, it occurs to me that I've forgotten the disclaimer. So, this is the disclaimer for the entire fic: I. Do. Not. Own. Bunnymund. Or North, Or Toothiana, or Sandman, or Baby Tooth, or the North Pole, or Jamie, or Sophie, or Monty, or Pippa, or Cupcake, or Claude, or Caleb, or any of the yetis or elves, or Disney, or Dreamworks, or Rise of the Guardians, or the sleigh, or the snow globes**_...

_**...Okay. *huff* I don't own Jack Frost, either. Jeez—spoilsport.**_

_**I do, however, own Pumpkin King, Sin Cantus, Jane Jackson, Thomas, Hilda, and Mike. And the theory that spirits can't die but can be destroyed. And this entire PLOT. *sticks tongue out smugly***_

* * *

**The Happy Conclusion  
****to  
****The Time Jack Lost His Stick  
**By: C.L.

Epilogue

The next morning, when Jamie's mother powered up the television, the news came on. A handsome anchorman who looked like he was wearing makeup was sitting next to a beautiful anchorwoman with golden hair that seemed a bit too perfect. The woman was speaking directly to the camera, face unnaturally blank as she talked about an event that might've warranted emotion from anyone else.

"…and, in more current news, there's panic at the Halloween Jubilee as, at around eight o'clock last night, several dozen children went missing. Reports say that there were no witnesses to the actual crime. How is this possible, Mike?" She smiled at the camera—an upturning of the lips that seemed painfully fake and didn't quite reach her eyes.

The anchorman smiled just as emotionlessly without even turning when he was addressed—just as his partner had not turned to him when addressing him. "Well, Hilda, interestingly enough, it _shouldn't_ have been possible. Reports tell us that the lights in the school parking lot, where the school Halloween party was set and where the kidnapping took place, were only out for a couple seconds. When they came back on, the children were gone."

"What a _quan_dary," Hilda replied, sounding just overenthusiastic enough that she managed to convey the feeling of not being at all interested in what she had been told.

"Indeed. But what's even more interesting is that each and every child was later found gathered around the Burgess Memorial statue in the square, sound asleep. Police have been left scratching their heads as to how they got there and who would kidnap the children only to leave them where they would most assuredly be found."

"Oh my," Hilda exclaimed with false surprise. "Now who would do that, Mike?"

"No one knows except the children, Hilda," Mike replied with well-feigned seriousness—apparently the only emotion these two knew how to display with any degree of success. "And, strangely enough, they don't seem to want to talk."

Hilda nodded, also suddenly expertly serious. "Right you are. Let's run some footage that was taken last night when the children were found."

The image of the two was replaced by a grainy shot of a statue of a family, surrounded by heaped snow. About half the children were still asleep or just waking up, while several were running around in excitement and still more were sobbing for their parents.

A reporter, a dark-haired lady in a scarf and mittens, was turning to look at the camera, eyes wide.

"Oh my word, look at this!" she exclaimed in real excitement, a nice change after Hilda and Mike. "We've found them—goodness, we've found them!" She turned again and ran over to the children, followed by several police officers. Blue and red lights were obviously flashing behind the camera, because their glow could be seen reflected off of the statue.

"Are you all okay?" one of the policeman asked an older boy.

The black-haired, dark-skinned boy grinned. "Uh-huh!"

The newswoman turned abruptly to the camera, cheeks flushed. "Well, there you have it!" she said enthusiastically. "The children have been found. Now the police will do a head count to make sure all of the children are here, and maybe we can finally find out what happened to them!"

The headcount proved successful: everyone was there.

The newswoman approached a couple little girls. One blonde one was hopping around, shouting "Bunny! Bunny! Hop-hop-hop! I saw Bunny! I _saw_ him!" The other was giggling and waving her arms. "Sweetheart," the newswoman said gently to the second girl, glancing quickly at the camera. "Can you tell me what happened to all of you?" She held out her microphone.

The little girl flashed an adorable gap-toothed grin at the camera and squealed: "We saw a snow fairy!" She giggled again and ran around her friend, still waving her arms and the light-up wand that went with her Disney princess costume.

The newswoman smiled at the camera, making her skepticism clear. "Maybe we should ask someone older," she suggested, already making her way through the mass of happy children.

She finally came upon the boy from earlier, who'd said they were okay. "What's your name?" she asked him, holding out the mic.

"Thomas," he replied.

"Can you tell me what happened here?" she asked.

His face lit up. "Aw, you shoulda _seen_ it!" he exclaimed. "The ghost was like _'I shall rule Halloween!'_ and then the Easter Bunny was like _'Oh no ya won't, Mate'_ and we were like _'Ah, he's gonna kill us!'_ and Santa was like '_No no no no, _we_ kill _him_!'_" The boy waved his arms animatedly as he told the story and made a brave attempt at the various accents. He broke off suddenly and looked at the reporter with wide eyes. "Did you know that Santa's Russian?" he asked in awe.

The reporter was obviously taken aback by the absurdity of the tale. "Ah…no," she replied hesitantly, glancing in confusion at the camera. "And I…didn't realize that the Easter Bunny was British, either."

The boy shook his head seriously. "Not British," he corrected. "Australian."

"Right. I stand corrected," the reporter replied in clear skepticism. The boy wandered away, calling for a friend.

The newswoman turned again to the camera. "I'm beginning to think something a little strange is up," she admitted. "Let's see if I can find someone who looks sane…"

Another boy—a different one, with brown hair and brown eyes, walked in front of her then, calling, "Sophie? Sophie, where are you?" He turned to the woman. "Have you seen my sister?" he asked in all seriousness. "She's about this tall—" he demonstrated, "—and has blonde hair and a Bunny costume."

"She was over there," the reporter replied, pointing in the direction of the girl who'd been hopping around. But as the boy turned to go, she called, "Wait!"

He turned to face her, the question clear on his face.

"First, can you tell me what happened here?" She smiled at him. "Everyone I've asked seems to have only wild stories about myths and ghosts!"

The boy studied her, ignoring the microphone she was holding out to him expectantly. He seemed to be appraising her almost, weighing her words. Finally, he looked up at the sky, and at the snow falling, and said thoughtfully, "It looks like Jack Frost had fun tonight, huh?" Then, with a smile of farewell and a wave, the boy walked away to find his sister.

The reporter was left frowning at his retreating form. Finally, she shook her head and said to the camera with an uncertain laugh, "I'm beginning to think they're doing it on purpose. But," she straightened up and brushed off her winter coat, suddenly serious, "what matters now is that every child appears to be safe and sound, and the police will figure out what happened. When we learn more, I promise we'll be here and running the cameras. In the meantime, this is Jane Jackson with the Burgess Times, wishing the viewers a Happy Halloween and Fabulous First Frost." She held out a hand to catch a snowflake and smiled dazzlingly at the camera.

The image reverted back to Mike and Hilda, unfortunately.

"Jack Frost?" Mike asked in faked interest.

"Yes indeed, Mike," Hilda replied. "Police still don't know what to make of that cryptic comment."

Jamie's mother rolled her eyes at her son's antics and switched the TV off.

xXx

If she'd believed, however, she might have seen something else: as Jamie Bennett uttered Jack Frost's name, a shadow flitting across the sky suddenly halted, backtracked, and flew over to investigate the hubbub.

"…wishing the viewers a Happy Halloween and Fabulous First Frost," Jane finished with her signature smile.

Next to her, the snowy-haired boy grinned and bowed low, miming sweeping off a hat. "You're very welcome," he answered graciously, raising his head to grin at the camera.

Had the camera kept rolling, they would have seen Jack Frost wave at a few of the children, wink at Jamie, pause to give the oblivious Jane some improvised bunny ears as a photographer snapped her picture for the newspaper, and then soar off into the night to catch up with North's sleigh, leaving a soft snowfall in his wake.

* * *

_**AN: Aaaaaaand…there you have it! Happy ending for all!**_

_**Here's where the long stuff comes in. In honor of everyone who's noticed my story, here are the official lists!**_

**Followers (65):**

Adina Mizu

Alice Nightray

Amira Wayne

AnaEl92

Animateia

Aprincessb1215

BakaPotato

BeingTaylor

BlackFeathers 17

Blade-Rose

CRAZY little Dragon

Capella Sherlock Holmes

CheckAgain

Chikouu

Crazy-random-reader of hogwart

CyTonicKy

DemonessOfDepartingSorrows

Disrict7girl

Don't touch my Seaweed Brain

Dream Theme

Embersky

EpicDetour9

Faceball-92

ImagineMusic

JJ100051

Kick-Aft

KoiKyuuiKitai

Kurama111

LaurenFitz

Le-demon-celeste

MelTheAngryVegan

Naturefreak88

Night-Fury1

Novahetalia

O-Rachell-O

OrangeChima

Peanut Butter Rules

Radwoman

Rise-of-the-writer

Rolynne

RudeLoudandSassy

Shadowcat Pryde

TasteTheRainbowww

WRATH77

Yawhozy

animal8

beanie-art1

draconicflyer

emoluvr108

isthisparadise

jaybird200

livingwithbooks

mangalover31993

manganime fangirl23

moonshine19

orlitza2000

sakurastarfirestar

sealaustinallyheart

sohrem666

theyleaveshadows

toxic-dreamer-2

varaivolf

xChocolateCookie

xNereikax

xShinigamixMPx

**Favorites (53)**

AccioLight

Amira Wayne

BakaPotato

Blade-Rose

Bloodorange172

CRAZY little Dragon

Canadian Ham

Chikouu

CoverGirl7210

Disrict7girl

Don't touch my Seaweed Brain

Embersky

EnderMoon

EpicDetour9

EternalCacogen323

Faceball-92

I LoVe ChOCoMoNsTeR

ImagineMusic

Le-demon-celeste

Lighted Candle

Liketoread Stillreading

Magiccatprincess

MakinaCZ

Night-Fury1

NobodyWriterXIII

O-Rachell-O

ParisPhantom

PineappleSmoothy

RAI-RULZ

Rise-of-the-writer

RudeLoudandSassy

Sage of FanFiction

Sammygirl1209

StorybookRomance

TasteTheRainbowww

The Homunculi Twins

Yawhozy

animegal24

beanie-art1

demonsLOver

feathered moon wings

lurkerlaine

mandamichelle

mog the 13 moogle

monkeygirl77

moonshine19

mystery writer5775

skywright

sohrem666

thing1966

varaivolf

wolfsong81

zrpstrings

**REVIEWS!:**

I LoVe ChOCoMoNsTeR

Guest

Capella Sherlock Holmes

monkeygirl77

xNereikax

Maddie

nightmre13

Shadowcat Pryde

AccioLight (previously scrubslova)

AnaEl92

EpicDetour9

Frost and Winter Chills

Magiccatprincess

JW [**;)**]

sohrem666

Night-Fury1

Embersky

MasterIcePhoenix

sealaustinallyheart

Bloodorange172

isthisparadise

xChocolateCookie

beanie-art1

Don't touch my Seaweed Brain

Dream Theme

WRATH77

Peanut Butter Rules

moonshine19

TasteTheRainbowww

skywright

Ever

alight

TemporaliNSaNiTY

_**Thank you, all! I know authors don't usually do this and it's long and boring for those of you who may have tried to brave the whole list (I wouldn't if I were you; just find your name and move on, unless you want to go cross-eyed trying to keep all the names straight!) but each and every single one of you absolutely made my day! Yay!**_

_**I'm going to reply to reviews now, and then I have some important business to speak of.**_

_skywright__**, one word: DEEEEEEP. What you said there in your review for chapter nine was very, very wise. Thank you.**_

_EpicDetour9__**, thank you as well, for the very long review! Okay, okay, I now understand your…letter explosion…and am glad that you approve of my story so much! All I live for is my stories; I'm thankful they're worth it! And hey, look! :) Haha, not April 6**__**th**__**. Turns out, it wouldn't have been April 6**__**th**__** anyway—this is what I get for not keeping track of the days. It woulda been April 5**__**th**__**, tomorrow.**_

_Don't touch my Seaweed Brain__**…hmm, I hadn't been planning on writing more, but you know what? I might just do an extra chapter—kind of a bonus thing—with Bunnymund finally confronting Jack. However, it won't be posted right away; this story was ready-written, which is why I updated so fast, but I am notoriously slow at writing other things, so it'll be at least a week, probably more, before I post anything else. We shall see…**_

_Embersky__**, I AM sorry it was so short (tho you're right; it may have just been the schedule) but you know what? I always think that it's better to have an epic, full short story than a long one that just drags ON and ON and ON. And lately I've been more into shorter stories. Don't know why. I used to write huge monstrosities with several hundred pages and intricate plots that didn't really make sense…and now I've churned out this tame little hundred-pager. Weird.**_

_moonshine19__**, I am glad to return the favor! :D It makes me happy to know I was able to repay you for absolutely making my day. Also…well, whaddaya know…there **_**is**_** a calendar on my computer. You learn something every day, huh? Guess you can tell I'm not exactly tech-savvy… :/**_

_Night-Fury1__**, that was the goal! Haha, sorry for scaring you. Hey, I wanna see that video! :D Sounds fun! Haha.**_

_Ever__**, I apologize. I am deeply, truly sorry. :)**_

_Magiccatprincess__**, thank you! Those were some of my favorite parts, as well. I will always laugh at that ending, even though I wrote it…oh gods. Laughing at oneself. The first sign of insanity. *pales***_

_Guest__**, Pitch will not be making an appearance (as you've seen, actually, since we're at our journey's end) but I am now kicking myself for not seeing that earlier and building off of it. *sigh***_

_I LoVe ChOCoMoNsTeR__**, thanks! I loved writing those parts. Also, I sincerely hope I can, too. Maybe I shouldn't have started with this one; apparently I've set the bar very high for myself! :) Haha, oh well—guess the pressure's on! I accept the challenge.**_

_Capella Sherlock Holmes__**, I agree. It's funny how characters take on a life of their own; I had not planned for 'Punkin' King to really be adorable or relatable…it just kinda happened… Haha, guess that's what happens when you let the story sweep you away.**_

_sealaustinallyheart__**, you scared me there for a moment. Haha, I don't want to be shamed! 'Specially not by him! Aw, no, please—don't cry. Please don't cry. It'll be okay…**_

_TasteTheRainbowww__**, I know the feeling, but never thought I'd be the cause of it. Thank you.**_

_AnaEl92__**, thanks! Haha, I tried that too, but somehow it didn't work. However, my best friend has it down. I don't know how she does it…**_

_**Well, I said long author's note—as you can see, I wasn't joking. But I've got one last order of business.**_

_**I have three more stories in the works, and am wondering which one you guys would want me to post next, IF I decide to post any.**_

_**The first is kind of a brother/sister fic, called 'Wish Upon A Star'. In it, Jack's sister comes back just like he did, as a spirit—the Wishing Star. Death is mad that both Overland siblings have cheated him of taking their souls, and so decides to take revenge by targeting them and Jack's believers. The catch: neither Star (his sister) nor Jack know that Star is his sister.**_

_**The second is called 'Journey to the Past' inspired by a song from Anastasia (Journey to the Past by Aaliyah). In it, Pitch comes back and is, for some unknown reason, messing with Father Time. In the resulting battle, both him and Jack are sent back in time—to just a couple years after Jackson Overland's death.**_

_**The third is 'Here, Kitty-Kitty'. Less of a serious fic, more of a very, VERY fluffy adventure (both literally and metaphorically). Basically, in the aftermath of the movie, Jack isn't sure about his place with the Guardians, despite their telling him that he is one of them. He wishes that he could just know for sure whether or not they care about him—and, unfortunately for him, the spirit of the Wishing Star (not his sister; this is a different character with the same identity) hears him and grants his wish…by turning him into a cat? (Yeah…like a djinn, she can't control how the wish is granted). So, Jack has one month to get the Guardians to recognize him, or the change is permanent.**_

_**What do you think? I have three long-term fics in the making here, and no idea which I should work on. A little help?**_

_**Well, I'm gone for now, anyways. You guys might be receiving a little bonus chapter about Bunny chewing Jack out for leaving the Pole, but that'll be in some time, not right away. Sorry for this extremely long AN; eventually I'll edit out some of it, like the descriptions of the stories, and the 'official lists'.**_

_**Until next time, folks! Thank you for reading my story! :D**_

_**Love, C.L.**_


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